


An Unbeating Heart

by thefallenmutineer



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Other, defo fun writing a different version of micheal, plz read, things happen pre ep 3 s1 but post ep 2
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-03
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2020-02-16 16:26:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 28
Words: 125,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18695128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefallenmutineer/pseuds/thefallenmutineer
Summary: “Of all the things I expected in this universe, of all the alien species, cultures and races; meeting something like you… well it’s an interesting turn of events.”“Not the sort of expression I’d use, Captain.” Michael finally spoke.Captain Lorca shrugged, crushing the cookie open and started to chew on it loudly. “Maybe not. But this…” Gesturing to her new body, “is a work of something much grander. I don’t think it’s…much coincidence that the one woman who started this war was transformed into something of myth and legends.”





	1. Context is for Kings, part 1

The shuttle rattled constantly, it’s sounds resonating throughout the metallic shell and accompanied with violent shakes that rocked the passengers and pilot within.

Michael Burnham sat on one side, alone and dressed in a Starfleet orange jump suit. A thick collar around her neck which flashes to show it was on and a containment field around her as well as standard cuffs. A necessary precaution to which she had agreed to. For the sake of the other prisoners that were dressed in grey. _They_ didn’t think she was anything different. Something Starfleet had wanted to keep on the down-low now.

Ever since she had turned—three weeks into her imprisonment—she had become a huge threat that no one knew what to do with. After she had awoken from her transformation to this, her new form required a new and exclusive diet of _blood_ ; the manic need had caused her to fall into a frieze. She hadn’t been able to be charged with that given the circumstances. Her life sentence was still in question since… she was _technically_ dead. It took 5 months to have the control to sit around humans and other life forms that smelt good. Her new abilities were assessed and as long as she was fed regularly, she was good to go. However, heightened senses did little in her favour. The Collar simply helped overwhelming her hearing if she stepped out of line; it couldn’t otherwise _hurt_ her. Her vampire nature was an obviously evolved version of what the humans on earth knew from their mythology.

Hard stone like skin, alluring beauty, heightened senses, ruby red eyes that change black on a few variables, Strength and speed, most importantly; retractable Fangs. All characteristics of a hunter. A predator. It certainly made humans around her feel attracted to her yet at the same time, sensed something was wrong about her. Self-preservation instinct that also was echoed with many species that she met with. All found themselves uncomfortable in her presence; something she could see and feel in their postures, heat they gave off and the smells.

Yet the three humans across her were far too occupied to really know the danger they were across to. The ambient sounds all around her were far too distracting for Michael to really concentrate on them either.

“50 cons…. Vaporised.” The first male continued, bald and had a lot of stubble, “So here we are, miners for the war effort.” He continued with a bitter chuckle.

“Half the screws on Tellun are Andorians…” The Asian Female spoke up, an edge of boredom in her tone as she lazed in her seat. “The scumbag ones that are cold in all the _wrong_ places”

“They’re always cold in all their places.” The bald one chuckled, “At least, the three I killed were.”

Silence of conversation died as the man still chuckled though Michael found herself opening her contact covered eyes (to cover the red for those who didn’t know) and stared through the shuttle window to the outside space. Space was one of the few things she found herself staring out most since her turning. Her new vision allowed her for her to see so much more than before.

The new lights, colours and the distance… she could see stars twinkling much brighter; their colours of life, the chemical clouds that were ever unsettling in it’s soup as they cooked up the next element for a future race. It was beautiful to see. Her memory was perfect to recall each different sighs as if it were in front of her live.

The space outside now was moving fast in their travel. Exposing different sectors though even that did little to really capture her attention.

“So, what are you in here for, Starfleet?” The bald guy questioned, his attention shifting to her.

Michael’s eyes slowly turned to face him, expressionless.

“You don’t know who that is?” The second guy questioned, his eyebrow shooting up in surprise. The Bald one shrugged. “That’s Michael Burnham.”

“The Mutineer?”

All their gazes drifted to her with newfound interest

The woman’s eyes narrowing her with new emotions, a hateful glare. “I had a cousin on the Europa when it fell.” She started, her body heating up with a flush of blood and heat. “She along with 8000 are dead for what you did.”

“8186.” Michael corrected, not looking to her anyway. No need for the temptation.

The while shuttle gave another shudder before alarms raised. _“Warning, Proximity alert. Scanning.”_ The computer warned.

Michael turned though as light turquoise colours in her vision appeared around the windows. Her eyes focusing on the small creatures, recognising them though she could see the organisms much clearly now; each about the size of a grain of sand, emitting its bioluminescence glow that showed that they were feeding.

“Err, we got some bugs in the works.” The pilot spoke, calling through, the shuttle dropping out of warp

“Well you better suit up and play exterminator.” The replay called through.

“Great.” The pilot huffed out in annoyance, pinging the shuttle into auto and abandoned her seat, side skipping her field space to the bemusement to the others; they hadn’t realised it was there

“What’s.. what’s going on?” The second male asked, his heart rate picking up in his nerves.

“Species GS56. An organism that’s feeding on our ship’s power relays.” Michael answered, the lights flickering as she spoke as the craft shook. “Unless exterminated, they’ll drain the ship of all the power, the shuttle will drift and you’ll die of affiliation when the air runs out or when the heating fails. We’ll also loose artificial gravity too but that’s not the main priority.” She had more chances than they did to survive in those conditions. Her skin was ice cold and she didn’t rely on oxygen. She’d be fine.

All the human’s hearts increased faster, anxiety hovering in the air as the doors leading to the bay doors sealed.

“Can you come back?!” The second guy called in alarm but the pilot had already stepped out.

“Relax.” Though the woman’s posture suggested otherwise. “The pilot’s taking care of it.” However a few seconds later the computer spoke after a thump.

_‘Warning, safety tether disconnected. Warning. Auto Pilot malfunction.’_

The pilot floating away as they started to drift.

The atmosphere immediately turned tense as panic all around her set in, though Michael stayed perfectly still, watching as they tried to get out of their cuff and swearing quietly about it. Storm around them raged much loudly, she could hear the slow ‘ _tinks’_ in the works. The creatures must have been in a frenzy for this quick of penetration. The chemical storm cloud no doubt had been their primary food source before the processed shuttle powers attracted them. Much easier to process no doubt. She understood that feeling.

Suddenly the whole shuttle stop but Michael gasped sharply as a piercing electric sound resonated into the metal, the shift in the air changed and it felt like a tickle in the air, bushing over her skin like a breeze but then the resonator changed, a lower hum echoing with it; she could feel the shuttle move though she pulled a face as it heightened as a second tractor beam took over the first but then it was gone; loading into the ship cargo bay.

She let out a sharp breath. God, she hated that.

All around her though, new sounds seemed to press in on her. A hum of engines; the warp ones particularly loud, then there was the moving machinery; grinding sounds of turbo lifts, the doors opening and closing, a loud intercom that all seemed to go off at once and over each other. Then there was population on the ship… she could hear the chatter’s, their steps and movements all over the ship… their heartbeats that were dotted all about..

The ship was worse. A lot worse… After her turning, they had made sure her cell was soundproof to keep her calm; they didn’t want to aggravate her if they could help it. With her senses so new to start with, it was easy to get overwhelmed with all this new information she was hearing, even if she could process it much faster. It’d have to take some getting used to.

The bay doors opened after they had come to as top, three armed guards came in though briefly ran over who they had on board before they started to un-cuff them. Michael took a steady breath as her field around her was dropped though she could sense the caution in the guard’s movements as they removed her cuffs; eyeing the collar no doubt but she followed the other three out into a single line but she was immediately met with a _lot_ of visual simulation.

Lights shone down from the ceiling of the hanger, most of the surfaces were white but that didn’t stop it from reflecting off as well as the metallic surfaces, such as the shuttle to the far side. It was a huge space with panels and cargo pallets stacked up beside the walls, a few bollards that not only acted as a guard to any malfunctioning shuttle but as further storage. A few screen monitors also provided aid for repairs, flashing data all over it.  The shields across the hanger glowed and rippled. It was a lot to focus at once.

The doors a head opened though she immediately let her focus shift to it; watching as a slim female human came down, her skin a light brown and her hair black that was pulled up into a pony trail. Her eyes were a dark brown that were focused to the other prisoners as she stopped at the top of the stairs that head in and out of the hanger.

“Welcome to the USS Discovery.” She started in a hard tone, stepping down after a moment. “I’m Commander Landry, I’m the Chief of Security here…. I see we’ve unloaded a lot of trash today…” Her steps moved along their line though her eyes landed onto Michael, her posture stiffening up as she stopped in front of her, examining her with a mixture of weariness; taking in her pale face, collar and stance.

Michael met her gaze though didn’t blink; watching her own reflection in her eyes. There was subtle shift as she stepped back. “And Starfleet’s mutineer.” Her tone cooler though she turned with a clip of her fingers. “Follow me.”

The group started to move, Michael walked last after them though stepping through the doors, the sudden increase of human scents ticked at her throat, renewing the ache of thirst dully; they had made sure to feed her up before the travel though the draw was still there…

There were a mixture of species they passed as they walked to wherever Landry was taking them, however she could tell that 85% of this ship was human. The recycled air in the vents said as much.

The prisoners began their remarks until hushed by Landry, her attention returning to the woman in turn as they were designated to the Mess hall; the stretch of human food billowing out at the doors.

“You three, with them.” She directed the following guards into the room after the others “Burnham, Captain wants to talk to you.”

Relief flowed through Michael at that; she wouldn’t have to endure sitting through the meals. So Landry knew her physiology enough to know she _couldn’t_ eat food. She couldn’t see much logic either in waiting through it. Of course, all the captains who needed to know were no doubt informed… she was the ‘first’ of her kind here. Even if they couldn’t find who attacked and turned her to start with.

Landry walked ahead of her, her hand gripping her phaser as they got into the turbolift though Michael stared ahead, still as a statue.

“I know what you are,” Landry started, “your lack of blinking is unsettling.”

“I don’t need to blink like you.” That said, Michael blinked anyway, refreshing a new layer of fluid over her contacts. “The liquid in my eyes are dissolving my contacts. More I blink, the faster they dissolve.”

“Couldn’t care less on that.” Landry answered, “But you’re a threat to this ship. I don’t see why you’re not being taken to the brig straight off.”

“I don’t either.” Michael was well aware she was a danger. She didn’t need someone else telling her of that. Silence relapsed between them and Michael still didn’t break it first but Landry was twitchy. The turbolift came to a stop and opened.

Almost immediately she was hit with the airflow of the bridge, most human scents, the sounds of the bridge that were familiar, whistles of notifications and chatter of work…then the immediate sight out the far screen into space; all monitors were facing in towards the screen but there were ones at the edge, covering all other ship details that were non-critical. Two pilot seats, one empty while a black woman with her hair tied up into braid and a top of head pony to be kept out the way was tapping away at her screen in front. In the centre was the captain’s chair but Michael could recognise the back of the head of who sat in that chair…

Within seconds of entering, Saru’s ganglia extended, turning around in alarm as his hands drifted to his head. He stiffened as he saw her.

“Saru…” Her voice was quiet, not that she expected him to hear her but she only watched as he turned back to the window, looking as if he was trying to stuff the ganglia back up into his head. Landry’s movements distracted her away so she followed her to the side door along though Michael could hear a single heartbeat within. The doors sprung open and closed sharply after her; leaving Landry on the other side.

The lights were unexpectedly dark, purposeful it seemed yet it was a welcome in comparison to the rest of the ship. Yet it didn’t not hinder her sight; easily making out the man’s shape by the window as he gazed out, as if they were outside. His scent was strong, rich and appealing that suggested he spent a lot of time here.

“No matter how far in space you are, always feels like you can see home, don’t you think?” The captain questioned, revealing a , to break the ice no doubt. He paused though when she didn’t answer, “Maybe it’s just me.”

As she stood, Michael felt her contacts finally dissolve, blinking a little to clear the residue away though her hand disappeared into her pocket for a fresh set she had been supplied with for the trip. The Captain still stood by the window.

“Apologies for the light… or lack of. A recent injury. I have to suffer light change slowly.” He started though slowly turned to face her as the lights turned up. “But I know with you, you can still see in whatever lighting, right?”

His gaze fell onto her face; though his heart picked up a beast faster. Though he was smiling. He wasn't nervous, nor scared; more intrigued than anything else.

“Captain Gabriel Lorca. Welcome to my ship.” He started, his hand reaching to a pot on his standing desk that was between them. Though he nodded her closer. Her eyes narrowed for if a second then darting over in a heartbeat to the edge

Captain Lorca flinched, almost knocking the bowl off the edge surface; his heart leaping with extra thud of surprise. However he let out a laugh. “Of all the things I expected in this universe, of all the alien species, cultures and races; meeting something like you… well it’s an interesting turn of events.”

“Not the sort of expression I’d use, Captain.” Michael finally spoke.

Captain Lorca shrugged, crushing the cookie open and started to chew on it loudly. “Maybe not. But this…” Gesturingto her body, “is a work of something much grander. I don’t think it’s…much coincidence that the one woman who started this war was transformed into something of myth and legends.”

“You think I was targeted _specially_?” he hadn’t been the first to assume. After all, she hadn’t been completely alone. Her cell block had three other women who were also killed. She had heard that theory before from Sarek after she had calmed from her frenzy; he had come to see her of course, yet they hadn’t spoken. He had no doubt sensed the pain she had gone through.

“Hm, not entirely. But to go from human to a vampire, I had read the stories. It couldn’t have been easy… to endure the change, killing those doctors and guards without a scratch or bruise… or broken bones… to heal up from the damage inflicted beofre. Now solid as a rock and cold as ice. Impressive, I had to admit.”

Michael looked away. Her memory of the night hadn’t been very clear and still wasn’t; she only read the after reports. Broken ribs, fractured leg, bruised organs…She had taken a beating before the vampire had bitten her by logic conclusion.

“Your eyes though… they give it _all_ away.” He lent onto his elbows with a chuckle, “Forgive my curiosity. _Reading_ about you to… _seeing_ you in front of me is quite something. Not just what you are, either but _who_ you are, Michael Burnham.”

“What did you want me to come here for?” Getting straight to topic than his beating around the bush. “Personal assessments? Curiosity?”

“Both.” He answered with a shrug. “Can you blame me?”

Michael didn’t blink. What game was he playing? “I was being transferred from Starbase 21’s prison facility to another with little warning. By all accounts and federation requirement, I should have had a warning. Then half way our shuttle goes down conveniently close to this brand new star ship.”

Captain Lorca shrugged. “What are you implying, Burnham?”

“You know what I mean, Captain Lorca.”

A tight smile stretched over his face, a calculating expression crossing over his features. “Fate plays it hands and we have to deal with it. Which leads me to what to do with you now you’re _here_.” He moved around his desk, his arms folding. “Can’t put you in the brig with the others… that won’t end well for _them_. I could use your skills than waste them anyway. I have a project that could do with all the brilliant minds we have.”

“No.”

Captain Lorca’s eyebrows shot up, affronted at her denial. “No?”

“I am not human anymore. But my new nature makes me a real threat to this ship. My diet is strict and If someone breaks their skin around me, that also won’t end well. My self-control over blood list is… still developing. While I can tolerate being around humans…” She left it trailing. Surely he could recognise the danger. “Not just my blood lust either. My strength would pose another area of concern. I know only a few people on this ship know my true nature but the crew self-preservation instincts tell them that something is very _wrong_ about me.”

The captain sighed deeply out. “As long as you’re fed, you’re controlled. You wear that collar for a reason and I expect you to do what you can to maintain this secret for the sake of the crew unless told otherwise. Let the crew think what they want. Nature aside, you were a Starfleet officer dedicated to a cause. But there aren’t just free rides on my ship when there’s a war raging. One that _you_ started. I need all the mind I can _get_.” His tone immediately hardening.

Her eyes narrowed, though felt a slight vibe of threat at his change of attitude and demand that didn’t sit well, enough for an echo of a growl to rumble briefly from her chest, enough to put Captain Lorca on edge, unsettling him which worked as he moved back around the desk with a upbeat pulse. He knew what she meant on preservation instincts _now_.

“You’re dismissed.” Lorca nodded his chin to the door so she turned and headed over to the door as it opened and slipped on her new set of contacts.

 

* * *

 

Landry escorted her down to a new deck though in silence until the lift opened.

“You’ve been put onto day shift. But until then, you’ll be bunking with a human cadet. She won’t know what you are so keep that under your hat.” Landry was saying. “Dr Culber will come by to give you your… supplements for while you’re here. Our replicates don’t accommodate your needs. Captain don’t want you eating the crew either.”

They slowed towards a door when it popped open. Michael stepped inside.

“You’ll be escorted at 0800 hours to work on your new projects and otherwise confined to quarters. Three days until your shuttle to the prison coloney is up and running”

“Work on what?” But the door closed quickly and Landry’s steps walked away at a brisk pace.

A soft puff of air escaped her lips. Of course, secrecy. Though she surveyed the room. Two beds were stationed at either side either side; plain and neatly organised. Behind the heads of the beds were what looked to be a desk spaces. After that, further storage and a matter synthesiser.

The scent inside was strong but that was expected to a bed room, weak enough to assume the Cadet hadn’t been here for a few hours. The smell was pleasant and had an edge of appeal, it was easy to tell which side of the room was hers on its concentration.

She darted forwards to the left bed and she lowered herself gently down onto it’s edge. Her eyes lingering on the pillow. On it was a small insignia of their badges… with USS discovery inscribed over the top. As if she _needed_ a bed. She couldn’t sleep— _didn’t_ sleep. Not since she turned. What use was a bed but for sitting on? Would she have to pretend to sleep too? She could stand for days without moving an eye. Here, she had to pretend; limit herself even more. It was hard. Human life and vampire life… it blurred the lines that remembering human limits was different.

Time did feel different to her, maybe that was because she had all eternity at her fingertip, time was relative. Hours could pass so quickly or so slow…. No in between for her. Her own curse; while everyone slept, she’d stay awake to _continually_ dell on… everything and what her future held. How long would Starfleet even last? Would it fall or strive for thousands of years. Would she somehow outlive it all? Everyone she’d know would be dead. That was a depressing thought. She’d be alone. One of a kind. Eternity was going to be a long time for that. Perhaps that was what she deserved for all of this. Maybe that could be why she was turned.

Heavy footsteps caught her attention, drawing her from her thoughts before the door even opened. A short female came bounding in, her hair the first noticeable thing about her given it’s bright orange colour that was barely contained within the bun at the base of the woman’s neck. She was pale and a slightly rounder build than Landry’s and had blue ques that widened in surprise as soon as she saw her.

Immediately the woman’s posture shifted and a grin on her lips. “Oh.. This is so cool!” She started, giving Michael the immediate impression that this one was a huge talker. Great. “They said— they said that because of my special needs that I wouldn’t get a roommate… that was such a let-down because roommates are like auto built-in friend so.. They just told me I was getting one so I guess that’s you..” She rambled though she moved to seat herself down on the opposite bed.

Michael didn’t say anything but moved to lie back on her bed, resting her hands on her stomach.

“You very look pale, are you okay?” Her head tilted, looking at her with more curiosity. Michael nodded though it amused her for a moment.  “So I’m Sylvia Tilly …what’s your name?”

“Michael.” Despite feeling aspirated already, she kept her tone monotone. She wasn’t for first impressions, not dressed like this nor collared.

“Huh… I’ve never met a Michael that was a girl… can I give you a nick name, something more approachable—“

“No.”

“Oh, yeah, right. Okay, I won’t.” She stuttered, fiddling with her jacket though her cheeks noticeably flushed with a blush. “So… The only Michael I heard of was…the mutineer; Michael Burnham…”

Apparently she didn’t stop… Michael closed her eyes.

“Are… are you her?”

The vampire could almost hear the begging of the denial. But she let her silence answer for her. Sooner or later she’d find out.

Tilly’s pulse increased and the flush of heat went straight to her cheeks as it hit her. Her eyes drted about, trying to find some other topic. “Hm… what’s… eer what’s with that collar?” Her voice rose ti a much higher pitch.

‘Black Alert. Black Alert.’

Immediately the lights turned blue and the LED lights that lined the edges of the room turned from a warm colour to a cold, giving the room a whole new feel but Michael sat up at the sudden feel in the air, not quite pressure nor static or electric like the tractor beams but the entire ships sounded more muted as well, yet she could something in the atmosphere… it made her shiver.

“What’s going on?” She questioned, turning her attention back to Tilly who nervously fidgeted with the hem of her blue shirt.

“Weren’t you told?”

“No.”

“Then I can’t tell you.” Tilly was quick to lie down, rolling onto her face but her pulse had increased in her nervousness.

Michael’s eyes narrowed at her but sudden sound of water around her pulled her attention to the head of her bed where her eyes focused onto the droplets of water rise off the surface… and all around her off the walls as if the gravity systems were failing. Then they descended back into their surfaces a few moments later, the feelings in the air fading away. But it made her feel uneasy. What were they doing on this ship?

“Tilly…” Michael started, “What the hell did this _do_?” She heard Tilly swallow and her heart thumped fast yet she didn’t answer.

Then Michael’s head turned automatically turned as she heard steps once again approach the doors, a ding.

“Come!” Tilly reacted first, rolling off the bed and onto her feet; cheeks flushed and the doors opened. Their lights returning to normal.

Outside the door stood a tall Latina male, cladded into white medical uniform and a matching badge with a cross, his greying brown hair cut short with slight stubble beard down his jaw and over his top lip. In his hand was a silver case that was locked.

“Dr Culber?” Tilly questioned, frowning deeply.

Dr Culber smiled though his eyes slid to Michael. Though she sniffed, noting the smell. Blood. Bagged if she had to guess.

“Could you give us the room, Cadet Tilly. I won’t be long.”

“Of coruse.” Tilly was more than happy to go, moving past him and down the hall. Dr Culber stepped in and the door shut behind him sharply.

He continued to look at her for a long moment before stepping closer. “I suppose you already know what this is?”

Michael nodded. “I was forewarned of your arrival, but I can smell it.”

Dr Culber nodded coming over to place the case beside her. “When Lorca told me to get these, he informed me of what you are; as precaution should anything happen in your stay.”

“I’m not surprised.” A smart decision.

Dr Culber smiled softly, surprisingly at ease as he pulled out a small PADD from under his arm. “For future references, how often do you require feeding? How much do you need?”

“I don’t need to eat _every_ day, but three days at maximum between feeding at the moment. I don’t need to have a whole lot at one time; little and often such as daily works as feeding patterns. Generally, a couple of pints. But If I’ve been starved out of feeding longer than a week; I…sort of require a little more than 8 pints however that behaviour…isn’t safe around humans.”

“You fall into a feeding frenzy? Like sharks that smell blood?”

“Precisely.”

Culber nodded, noting this down. “Blood preferences of species and types?”

“Human, mostly. Especially ones that eat meat.”

The doctor nodded. “I suppose…”

“I can work with Vulcan types, despite the colour it can fill the craving just as equally. Tellarite, Kelpien, Andorian; No. The last one simply because it’s too cold.”

Culber laughed “Sounds like you’re a picky eater when you say it like that” He joked.

Michael felt her lip twitched though she slipped the case onto her lap and Culber stepped forwards to unlock it with his finger print. Inside were 12 pouches of blood, each label by type and species. She picked one up, feeling it softly though as it moved.

“This should last you the stay while you’re here however, if you need more, don’t hesitate to ask.” He said. “I’m here to help, whatever you need”

“Even something like me?” The question left her lips without a lot of thought. Since her turning, everyone had been focused on what she was, what she represented yet this doctor, he wasn’t treating her like she was a convicted and dangerous monster; he wasn’t scared of her either. Which was odd. Yet refreshing.

She felt his gaze on her soften though she closed the case, keeping the bag in hand still.

“Yes.” He answered, offering her a small smile. “Is there anything else I can do?”

Michael shook her head. She was physically otherwise perfect. She was already starting to listen past the ship’s noise, like a background hum that was always there. Or was it her distracted mind that hushed the sounds back?

She brought the bag to her lips, her fangs sharpening out to pierce the thin plastic though she noted the generally curious look she got but he knew when to excuse himself though immediately, despite it being cold, the blood felt good, the tingle of it felt like it renewed some sense back. Relief, like getting a cool drink on a hot day. She sucked the bag dry, a minor reminder it wasn’t endless or as much as she was used to so she had two more and left the bags inside the case. She could hear Tilly’s steps again so she shoved the case under her bed and lay down, keeping her eyes closed. She had nothing to say to her after all….

 

* * *

 

Morning felt like it had taken forever to arrive. Tilly’s snore for 8 hours was like a timer though she stayed as she was; lying on her back over the covers; she hadn’t bothered to move though she had found herself listening to the conversations going around. Whispers of her presence on the ship and something about a spore drive was a common occurrence but she had little context to understand what they _really_ meant by the use of spores. How did mushrooms fit in on this ship?

Tilly had gotten up early and dressed in just as a much hurry as she did to leave though Michael moved when the clock timed 20 to 8. Peeling off her mustard convict gear though careful not to touch the collar (it really didn’t like to be knocked sharply) before setting the matter synthesizer for a designated set of clothes; which only appeared to be a blue jump suit this time; no doubt to blend in more with the crowd. Lorca’s idea, maybe.

It took 15 minutes to be ready, the smell it gave off as it was made not entirely pleasant; like mildly burned cotton. She slipped it on, putting in another set of contacts and requesting permissions for the synthesiser to create more.

Her eyes flickered to the clock as it just turned from 7:59 to 8:00, she darted quickly to the door and it opened to reveal Saru, fidgeting with a bowl of blueberries.

“Saru.” She spoke. First time in 6 months she had seen him. While he looked the same, his posture and tone said enough. It was odd to see him with so much more detail, like the rest of the star ship. Had her human eyes really been that…blind. Though she could see the flush of blood under his skin, a completely different pattern of vessels than what she expected though his face was much redder than it had been. His ganglia was once again extended, though seeing those in _detail_ did made her want to cringe; not the Kelpien’s best features.

“ _First officer_ Saru.” The Kelpien corrected, though he nodded her along and she complied, feeling oddly stiff.

The morning staff were milling about but she felt each of their stares as they passed. Some moving a little further away, whispering to each other; not knowing she could hear the remarks

_‘Did you hear?’_

_“It can’t be her’_

_‘She shouldn’t be here.”_

All around. It showed that everyone knew who she was, even on a brand new star ship.

“Congratulations on your promotion.” Michael spoke after a moment. What else could she say to fill the silence? A lot, probably. An Elephant in the room. Despite _all_ that had happened, she had thought a lot on what happened between them… and what she had seen at the funeral of Georgiou through the recording.

Saru nodded, “Thank you. Powers at be were….impressed at my actions at the battle of the binary stars.” He sighed softly. “I just wish I could have done more.”

“I understand.” She shouldn’t have done what she did, then Georgiou would still be alive and she’d be human. Wishful thinking, a desire for the impossible and the reality of never being able to go back.

“Bluebe-“ Saru stopped shortly in his sentence, pulling the bowl back then shook his head. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Forgetting was natural. Even with his instincts telling him one thing, his ganglia wouldn’t give him the fine details. Though the silence relapsed again, she listened out further through the ship though it took a moment but she could hear something, it wasn’t like an engine or machinery but small sounds, like trilling and tinks that she could almost miss. What was that? “What do spores have to do with with ship?” She asked after a moment though his head turned sharply to her with a look of bemusement.

“Excuse me?”

“Last night. I kept hearing something about a spore drive. One of the few conversations that kept popping up. _I_ was another topic too.”

“You were in your room, how in—” He stopped in his tracks, his head titling as he looked at her. “Your hearing is that good?”

Michael nodded, sighing softly. “I can hear everything on the ship. All in my hearing range.”

“How _Far_  is your hearing range?” His tone was much harder, his grip on the glass much tighter

“I’m not entirely sure. A mile, maybe longer.” She shrugged softly, “I haven’t been to a planet side base for full range in an atmosphere and most bases aren’t bigger than a mile in all directions.” She couldn’t hear outside the ship simply sound couldn’t travel through the void of space. “My containment rooms had been made to be soundproof.”

Saru stared at her for a long moment. “And you can hear _everything_ at any time? Can you do anything about that?”

“I can’t turn it off… or manipulate my hearing. But I can…focus to let the ship sounds become background but they’re much louder when everyone else goes to sleep. Cadet Tilly snoring for 8 hours hardly kept my attention to my room.”

Saru nodded though a dent formed in his skin as he continued walking again. “While I knew your senses have heightened, I never imagined they were…that good.”

“It can be overwhelming. I can process it, my cerebral capabilities are also heightened to deal with it but as a result in general… I get bored very easily.”

“I haven’t been able to… review the full reports of what you are. But this information does little comfort to me.” He same to a stop outside a set of doors and turned to face her

Michael’s head turned, the trilling sounds much louder… but on the other side she could hear a few people milling about, Tilly’s scent lingering in its doorway that also suggested she worked in there.

“Captain Lorca has assigned you to Engineering under Lieutenant Stamets. He’ll task you specific duties while you remain here.” His hand gestured to the door though she turned to look back to him. He made the move to leave.

“First Officer Saru.” She started, there was no other time since the present to tell him, she only had a day and a half left on this ship; he doubted she’d see him again to tell him much more. Saru paused at the addressment. “I… I saw a recording of the speech you gave. At Captain Georgiou’s funeral.” His face softened at the mention of her. “It was beautiful.” She sighed in deeply. “I know that… nothing I can do will make up for the loss of her and everyone else to this War. I live with it every day and I know the…guilt and regret will never leave me. I _can’t_ ever forget…” Forgetting was a luxury. Only time her memory failed her was in her frenzy state or the human memories that were…too weak to remember. Another curse to this new form. But she didn’t deserve to forget it either.

Saru continued to look at her for a long moment, contemplating her words. “I know that you feel regret. But you, species momentary _aside_ here, are dangerous. You can be… manipulative. Now with what you are in the mix… I cannot fathom the danger you put everyone in. Lorca doesn’t see that. He doesn’t fear what normal people should. I know people can sense it around you.”

“I do not intend to stick around to cause issues, Saru. I don’t want trouble.” Though his words stung, as true as it ever was. It wasn’t just because he was a Kelpien and she was a vampire; a designed human-drinking killer.  

“To what I agree as well. There are 135 lives on this ship. We cannot afford any more losses because of you.” He straightened up, ready to leave. “But, regardless. I’ll do what I can to protect my captain… better than you did with yours.”

Her jaw clenched tightly but he quickly took his leave with the last word. It awakened the ache of hurt within her unbeating heart. A tightness in her throat that almost tasted bitter, his steps getting further and further away but she couldn’t follow it. His words aimed specific. A further reminder of her betrayal.

After a moment, she moved and entered the room, immediately met with the dark room, for stations under the door overview and a containment cube down to the side, on it’s opposite side was a 5th monitor but behind that were circular compartments that were lit white, only one red and empty; past those was a balcony back up, no doubt to another view spot and alternative exit to other parts of the ship.  Beside the tube holdings was another door, much more solid and looked to have a little more security.

She slipped down the stairs quickly, turning her focus to the two humans working at the stations who were concentrating on their work.

“I’m looking for Lieutenant Stamets.” Michael stated. Her voice toneless to shroud her mood. She could distract herself with work. Better than nothing like yesterday, pretend to not feel the sting of Saru’s words.

“He’s in there.” The woman nodded, “But you’ll have to wait for him to come out.”

Michel eyed the security to the door, Moving towards it but otherwise stood still, going over what she had seen  in much more detail in her mind… though the trilling sounds were much denser behind the doors… and in the tubes. Were these the spores the people were on about?

The door pinged open, though her surprise presence outside made the blond and very pasty man flinch back, gripping the handle of his canister tightly. “For the love of…” He stopped, shaking his head but his expression was far from happy. He moved gruffly from the door. “Who are you?” He grumbled.

“Michael Burnham.” She replied.

His blue eyes watched her wearily as he slipped the canister into the spare slot but she had seen enough. The spores. Light turquoise and danced around in the glass canister; warping around each other than any contact; the sounds echoing and varying. It was… chaotic music. Unheard by human standards. Almost distracting

“Lorca sent me down here.”

Stamets face darkened at the mention of the captain, obviously not a fan of him either.

“Huh, and here I was expecting a Vulcan.”

“Humans can be raised on Vulcan. I understand the misconception.” That was no doubt the case though he looked less than impressed with her remark back.

Stamets eyes her for a long moment though he looked to his station and picked up two memory chips, one red, the other yellow. “I suppose since Lorca thinks you’re such an asset, go through the codes and reconcile them.”

Michel reached up and took it from his fingers though she immediately felt him recoil as their fingers touched; his hand was quick to pull back and his pulse, like most humans by now, quickened.

“I will need more. I work fast.”

“Fine.” His tone was very curt so she took that as her cue to leave.

She walked towards the spare station next to Tilly who moved further away, her mouth opening to say something before closing, coughing with clear discomfort but Michael simply plugged in the data chip and turned on the holographic projector.

Series of code lines immediately to display though it took a moment for her to see what she was looking at though having context would have been ideal…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, This is very close to the canon stuff simply because it's a ground start for me. I'm curious to see how she can work as a vampire on board bc why not! ehehe
> 
> There is a second part to cover the rest of the ep.
> 
> Please drop a comment, I'd love to hear your thoughts!


	2. Context is for Kings, Part 2

As predicted, Michael found herself finishing her work quickly, highlighting the mistakes in red though she had lost all sense of time as she carried on through the pile Stamets eventually left her with, ignoring everything around her, multi-tasking with her work, thoughts, new contacts and listening to conversations, the last one she paid any attention was between Stamets and Straal at his station but that was probably hours ago. She was working on her second to last chip when an exclamation broke her from her mind.

“Oh my god you’re _still_ in here!” The voice was Stamets, in the doorway. Michael blinked, momentarily confused until she saw the time. 6 am. Had she really been here _that_ long?

“I lost track of time.” Her answer was cool and toneless still. “I’ve got one more suite of codes then it’s all done.”

Stamets’s face was still full of bemusement. “How are you _not_ tired?”

Michael offered him a shrug. “Genetics.”

“Hm..” He stepped down quickly then picked up her pile— she had labelled them especially for him to find the order of them— and dumped them down at his station, his gaze on her face still.

 

* * *

 

Fortunately, she hadn’t been dismissed so she continued onto the last one, slowing herself down to pace herself; just in case of not having anything left to do. Tilly and the others all came back within an hour, getting a frown from the red-haired. No doubt at her lack of appearance 8 hours ago for bed or dinner in the mess hall.

It was perhaps a few further hours later that she hard new and familiar steps, turning to face the door before it opened, revealing Captain Lorca and Saru but the vibe was serious and solid.

“A couple of hours ago, our sister ship, The USS Glenn running black alter manoeuvres when an _incident_ occurred. The Entire crew was lost.”

A few intakes of breath’s echoed.

“What...what happened?” Stamets asked, “Bloom failure?”

“Don’t know. But either way I’m sending a boarding party to find out.” Lorca said, “You’ll accompany Commander Landry and make sure everything related to our… projects returns to this ship.” His eyes skipped briefly to Michael as he spoke. Her eyes narrowed in response.

“Why don’t we just transport it back to Discovery instead? It’s much simpler.”

“The room was secured with shields. Not an option.” Saru spoke this time, shifting with discomfort.

“Shielded?” Stamets tone changed; less upset but also suspicious.

“We will need to be quick, it went down by Klingon Territory. In and out.”

Michael closed her eyes as she felt another set of contacts dissolve. Leaving the lieutenant and captain to bicker as she reached for her pocket, feeling the hard case of her contacts though she only found one pair left; her other pocket full of the empties.

She shoved one in and had just put the other when Lorca spoke of putting her on the team. Her finger moved away from her eyes at the glances she got but opted not to answer as Stamets’s argued though she could feel both of their bodies’ heat up in anger, filling the air with it

“Number one, what are your assessments of Burnham’s abilities? You know her best given you served under her”

Saru hesitated in answering, looking momentary like a deer in the headlights. “Well, Mutiny aside, she is…one of the smartest officers I knew.” His tone was controlled though not meant as a compliment, just a statement but it only seemed to prove Lorca’s point to Stamets.

“Huh, and he knows _you_.” Lorca jabbed before taking his leave with the Kelpien

 

Getting prepped for the shuttle hadn’t taken long. Dr Culber, on Lorca’s orders, had given her a new batch of bags to have before leaving and she saw plenty of logic behind it; if there was blood spilt; she couldn’t afford her thirst to drive her into accidentally killing the landing party and she knew there would be; no one died in that number without a spot of blood. If she was honest, it had been a lot and she felt a little _sloshy_ … and a little guilty on the amount she had. This came from storage and there weren’t many donors to restock.

She only needed to put on a stab vest; simply for appearances for the team and waited for the others to arrive. Tilly of all people had been chosen to come as well though Michael opted to ignore everyone. Especially when Stamets arrive with his mood-killing aura and his soured expression.

Tilly seemed also very chipper, taking a seat next to her though Michael moved her limbs simply so they didn’t touch though the woman continue to chat on this being her first boarding party.

“So… err I was thinking that, I’m sorry I was so frosty with you yesterday.” Tilly started, being more direct. “It’s just that….you’re sort of creepy— not in a bad way of course, but a creepy _unsettling_ sort of way.”

Landry’s lip twitched and the guard by the door covered his laugh with a cough.

“— You just…you don’t move a lot. Kind of like a statue most of the time so it’s really hard to know what you’re thinking.” Tilly continued. “But past _that_ I know you had a good position in Starfleet and that you could like...help me.”

Michael closed her eyes for a moment, “I get that you’re a nice kid, Tilly. But I’m not gonna stick around to be of any use.” She had a mining station with her name on it no doubt. She wasn't looking forwards to it but she did what she had to do.

Silence followed though they were soon dropping out of warp. Her eyes turned to the screen to see the ship floating aimlessly, like a dead fish but she could clearly see scratching markings over the hull in much more detail. Though Stamets started to talk out loud about it to Tilly, Michael opted not to get involved as they landed. The pilot staying put and Tilly and Stamets took the lead in, Landry walked beside her.

“What can you hear? Might as well put those ears of your to use.” Landry asked.

Michael sighed though listened out. A repetitive thump; it sounded like a door trying to close; no engines of any sort were going; the power was next to drained; she couldn’t feel it pulse. Even here though, she could smell the blood; a lot of it. Stale and cold but… not only human blood. Something else had died here too. Listening out, she counted the heartbeats.

“Two heartbeats, not including you lot.” 

“Survivors?”

Michael shook her head. “No. Too big for human.”

“Lovely…”

The lights continued to flicker on and off though it was mostly dark. Which did little to compromise her vision. Though the mixed blood in the air made it hard to definitely pin-point what scent belong to who though there was the definite taste of non-human blood spilt.

“They’re on the next floor. I think there’s a door jam.” Michael continued. She could feel something moving around…one was still; stationary; hiding. From the other thing that was moving; scraping along the metal… huge from the shifts in weight.

“Huge claws, no doubt its body mass it much bigger to accommodate its mass weight… surprisingly fast too…”

“Your _commentary_ really isn’t helping my nerves.” Landry dryly spoke, her grip on her phaser very tight.

“ _You_ wanted me to use my ears.” Michael rolled her eyes.

“Guys…”

Ahead, Tilly and Stamets founds one of the crew members, at least, part of one. Ahead now, the bodies were much more frequent; blood seeping everywhere and as scattered as each of the bodies. All looked to be mutilated and shredded and twisted and left where they died.

“Oh my god…” Tilly’s face was drained of colour.

“Cadet…. Scan to see if the Helix damage to the body matched the damage to the hull…”

Tilly’s hands shook as she scrambled around for her triquarter and started to scan. “There’s… er correlation.”

“We need to get moving.” Michael spoke, her head turning behind them, the way they had come; this place had lots of halls that looped around to each other… She sniffed, through there was a new scent that lingered closer. Her gums itched and she could feel the creature much closer…. The sensations was odd but she knew her new nature was going self-defensive; the air felt wrong, the bodies…. She closed her mouth as she felt her canines teeth sharpen.

Stamets nodded quickly. “Err, yeah it’s this way…” He took the lead shakily.

The ship creaked a little though Michael could hear the pressures in the pipes; whistling higher and higher until…

Suddenly a cascade of sparks, heat and the smell of gas shot out into the hallway, stopping as it was closed off.

“Look!”

In front, a bat’leth lay on the corridor floor though it was unmistakably Klingon and the stench of non-human blood came apparent as her eyes lay on the scattered and torn bodies of Klingons further down. The severed leg of one stopping the doors closing—that explained those _thumps_ she had heard.  The smell not too different to human blood either… she could easily feel the same attraction to it like how human blood called to her…

“Hm, well their plan to raid this ship bit them in the ass now, didn’t it…”

She could see why; a crippled enemy vessel with no life signs; it would have been a treasure trove; until a monster got involved.

“It’s torn through metal!” Stamets exclaimed, “What sort of creature could do that?”

“One that’s motivated, but I think we should move on before we get an unexpected run in with the thing that did it; it’s not a answer we all personally should experience.” Landry pressed.

They carried on deeper though Michael found herself walking next to Tilly, her head turning sharply as she heard the fast heart beat of the other hiding creature… Tilly’s head turned noticing her behaviour though as soon as it came into view, Michael realised it was the lone surviving Klingon; hiding from the monster; his behaviour was… scared. She had never seen a Klingon scared before.

Tilly’s hand went to her belt, pulling out her phaser and pocketing her triquarter, spotting the Klingon in her vision now. “You, In the shadows. Show yourself.”

Behind them, the others pulled their phaser; though the Klingon moved slowly, further into the human’s range of site.

Michael felt a growl build up in her chest, but the other creature had gotten closer…. This wasn’t going to end well. While she knew Lorca had told her to keep her nature under wraps… this may be the time to reveal them; to get them out…. Or to fight this creature. Her skin was hard like stone, not soft and squishy. She wasn't made of metal; she was stronger than that, so there was a chance her skin could take the creature’s claws.

She scanned the distance between herself, Tilly and Stamets; those two were the priority over Landry and Kowski who were there as protection. If this layout was similar to Discovery; she knew where she was going.

It only took a moment for her to assess and move to stand close to the two scientist.

“Shh..” The Klingon though was all too soon yanked out and the tear of flesh and the spurt of blood in the air but it triggered the creature.

Michael growled and grabbed the two and ran; not full speed—not even close but fast enough to keep them in the lead and took a sharp few turns; Landry following close behind, firing kill shots behind as the creature continued to peruse though Michael recognised the set of broken doors, shoving the two through and immediately set the emergency doors ready to slam shut; Landry passing through but kowski was yanked back with a cry but the doors slammed shut. Michael winced as she continued to hear the sounds of his death.

“Burnham… download all computer data.” Stamets panted, bewildered and rubbing his arm though focused.

Michael rushed at to the stations though she was immediately met with clear signs of a corruption of the data. Too much power could have fried it; there was enough damage to indicate it had been manually broken by force.

Tilly and Stamets continued to collect up equipment but a thump to the door did little to ease the tension. It was trying to break in….

“Log data are corrupted.” Michael stated though she could watch as each thump caused a few series of dents in the metal. She darted over to a door, slamming the release button but it jammed shut. She could break through it…Michael swung her fist into the metal; puncturing through the surface, and pulled it back, forcing open a new hatch on one side and did the same quickly

“Come on!” Landry called, just as anxious to get the equipment and go. Tilly collected the last thing from the cube and shoved it into the crate but the other door cracked as it’s head popped into the lab. Michael darted forwards; they wouldn’t make the shuttle in time before they were picked off…

“What are you doing!” Tilly called as Michael moved forwards the other doors

“Get to the shuttle, I’ll meet you there.”

“Are you crazy!?”

“Given its speed, I can calculate it’ll take out two of the three of you before you get to the shuttle.”

“Move it!” Landry wasn’t for complaining but then the creature further got in.

Its head pushed through the integrity of the door failed as its body pushed in; it’s focus straight to the human group.

“Oh shit!” Tilly was the first to move and the creature lunging.

Michael was unable to stop her snarl; darting forwards and grabbed it’s rear leg, yanking it back with most of her strength; flinging ir like a rag doll into the cube but it only took a second to recover and jump at her. She moved back, it’s claws slicing through her vest; shirt and down her skin; but though it was sharp;; there was no puncture and the only sound of grating granite and the material tears but she had the creatures attention so she fell back and darted up the tunnel, slow enough to keep it entertained to follow. It did, like an angry puppy throwing a tantrum.

This continued for minutes and she took a route from the notices on the edges of the tunnel to get her towards the shuttlebay.

“Burnham, we’re on the shuttle, were are you?”

Her hand pulled out the communicator, as she continued on. “Jeffrey's tube. Elevator the shuttle 200 feet, rear quarter above the shield replacement units. Open top hatch.” She hung it up and carried on, taking a sharp left and on, spotting the exit hatch and slammed the button to open. Behind her the creature was catching up so she jumped, watching slowly as the shuttle timed itself well and she slammed into it’s floor which dented but the hatch above her closed up.

“Go!”

Immediately the shuttle kicked off out and into warp; back to Discovery.

She moved to find a seat only. Tilly gasped sharply.

“Oh my god, it _got_ you!” She shot to her feet, her hand coming to Michael’s vest. Michael looked down though saw three claw marks that tore through the two layers. Stamets went to grab the med kit quickly

“I’m okay! It’s just a wardrobe malfunction, see.” Michael pushed open her shirt to show the undamaged skin under death though Tilly reached forwards and touched the top of her arm, where her sleeve was torn, letting out a gasp and pulled her arm away.

“You’re so cold!”

At that, Michael found herself laughing for the first time in months, falling into a seat.

 

* * *

 

Michael was more than happy to get back to Discovery and clean herself up. She knew she had freaked out Both Stamets and Tilly; not just the fact she had gone up against and survived the Monster that killed everyone and had busted through and bent back a metallic door; now Tilly knew her ice cold and very solid skin. She hadn’t revealed what she was but it no doubt was in question between the two what she was (she had also heard them talk to each other about her after Dr Culber ‘checked’ her out at her quarters at Tilly’s insistence)

Though like all things, she knew it was time to go so she dressed back into her mustard yellow jump suit before she was summoned to the bridge.

Though it remained ever apparent—as Michael stepped onto the bridge—that no matter how many times they came face to face, Saru’s ganglia was always going to make an appearance. Though this time, she could note he was much calmer with a steady pulse.

“May I enter the bridge, Commander Saru, Captain Lorca requested me before I depart.” She requested, formalities at the least.

“Permission granted.” Saru stepped down from the chair, though noted for another commander to take over his duties, Airiam who was part human from her scent; and synthetic. “I assume you know the shuttle it set to leave within the hour.”

Michael nodded softly. Of course. She had heard the guards talking about it when their shuttle had been cleared fully of GS56.

“I’ll be on it, sir.” And it’d certainly be a colourful ride not that the other prisoners knew her identity. It did make her ponder briefly if they’d _try_ an kill her this time.

Saru nodded and started to direct her towards the captain’s ready room which now she noticed; could heardly hear anything from within.

“Captain Lorca has sound proofed his Ready Room?”

Saru chucked lightly. “After I informed him of your hearing range, he thought to see fit to add that addition to this room and several others.”

Michael nodded though fell silent. She saw little logic with that if she was leaving.

“You know, it has been noticed that you’ve proven yourself a remarkable service on this ship and with respectable conduct since you got here. Despite yesterday’s last minute incident on mission, you kept your word on what you are and done impeccable work that was assigned, even if you did spend 21 hours without break in that room.”

“Time is relative with eternity at your fingertip.” Michael smiled softly. Recalling Stamets’s reaction to finding her _still_ working. “It’s not like I can get tired…or need a break.” Another pro no doubt why she was going to a mining colony; the work was physical and she couldn’t tire. Logical there.

“Well, I am glad that you provided a good team work to succeed. You got almost everyone out and fought off a monster. I thought that… you’d cause dysfunction.”

“Can I ask where this is going, Commander?” She wasn’t attempting to be rude but there wasn’t a lot going for her. Complimenting her, was this his goodbye? “Please don’t misunderstand, but I sense there’s more than just compliments here. What are you trying to tell me?”

Saru cocked his head for a moment though smiled wearily. “A… respectable goodbye, I suppose. I do not wish to leave things on slammed doors, so to speak.”

“Regret is to suffer, I suppose.” For her, for him. Michael didn’t know. Maybe it was both. She could live a little easier with a more patched up feelings with Saru; not remembering him calling her out on causing Georgiou’s death and how she failed her. “Good bye, Commander Saru.”

Saru nodded his head though gestured to the door and took his leave through the turbo lift down. Michael stepped closer and immediately the doors sprung open, revealing Lorca behind his desk, with his tribble still cooing away and his cookies on the opposite side and he had a wide and pleased grin on his face.

“Captain.” She greeted, standing her new usual motionless stance as she stopped a few feet from the desk.

“Well, I know you’ve gotten fairly blunt now so I’ll just get right to it.” He started, moving around the edge of his desk, picking up the tribble that cooed again, “I would like to officially invite you onto the crew of Discovery, you’ve proven yourself to be a solid worker, quite latterly and figuratively and I believe you could be a valuable asset to our ship.”

A frown slipped onto her face. Inviting her on? For real? Without question? She had purposely scared him the last time she had been in this room. “Sir, I have had a court martial and convicted for my crimes.”

Lorca waved his hand off, “Don’t worry on Starfleet. They’re still deciding on if you’re still liable for a life-sentence given you are _technically_ deceased and are otherwise immortal. Starfleet hasn’t exactly planned for _that_ life span and technicalities.” He was more amused as he said this. “Plus, how long will Starfleet _actually_ stand? You could outlive the entire organisation.”

“That’s a lonely thought…and painful.” She remarked coolly back. Living that long… watching as time touched all but her. Frozen and alone.

Lorca shrugged, “I see it as potential, Michael. Accept the offer and help us win the war. Let none of the fallen be in vain.”

“I can’t.” Michael shook her head. “I have crimes that need punishment, I am also new to this life yet I don’t want my abilities to be exploited in a way that could tarnish what _I_ am a person am nor the values of Starfleet.”

Lorca shook his head. “Is that the full reason you don’t want to stay? Here, you’d be productive. You could make friends. I’d enlighten the crew; you wouldn’t have to hide. I can get a replicator made for you to make any cocktail you desire or need.”

“Why do you want me to stay? By all logical reasons, it’s no coincidence I was removed from Starbase 21’s prison facility and put onto a course ultimately to lead to failure. I met you. Instead of going to the brig with the other humans, I was put to work. Maybe to help integrate me to the Spore projects you have running on this ship and with the people close by. Now the shuttle is fixed and you’re offering me a place just before I’m due to leave..”

“Most people would leap at the opportunity to leave…” He started, folding his arms. “It does show me what sort of person you are… that this offer won’t be abused.”

“Are you telling me to stay or actually _offering_ me to stay?” The lines were blurred around him right now…

Nor did he seemed to answer that. “It depends.”

“On what?”

“I can be persuasive. Michael. I don’t want you to leave and I do see every opportunity being held out to you. I want a willing crew mate on this ship and to help win this war. How can I do that without you?”

“You’ve managed so far.”

“Yet we could go further. With you on the most advanced ship in all the fleet. If you’re hesitating based on our projects then stop worrying. It’s not a weapon we’re developing.”

“Then what is it?” Her eyes examined him, trying to listen if he was lying.

“ _Travel_. Spore travel. A network that can get us to anywhere we need to be in a mere second of time…Earth, Andoria, Vulcan…. The Klingon home world… anywhere. We can’t win the war with classic Starfleet tactics. That won’t work but with our projects, we have a chance to win this war. But to do that, I need trained minds to work the technology. Working your mind _here_ than working those muscles there will do much more in your efforts… or we lose. Star fleet falls and you’ll witness it all so it becomes history. The Federation; History.”

Lorca’s speech was slow, graveling at logic to make his point stand tall. She could see what he was doing. He wasn’t lying. But she found she couldn’t find much trust with him… not yet…

She looked away but otherwise stood still. After everything…

“ _Okay_.”

* * *

 

Michael carried her bag from the shuttle to her new quarters, though she knew she surprised Tilly as the doors opened, bemused and confused which made her smile softly as she set the bags down onto her bed.

“I thought… I thought you were on the prison shuttle!” She exclaimed with a calm edge, standing up from the small table, her mass of red hairs unconstrained and bounced around her like a lion’s main.

“Lorca gave me an offer.” Michael answered. “For now, I’m staying. If you don’t mind my presence.”

After a moment, the cadet offered a weak smile. “I’m glad…”

Michael unzipped her bag and slowly started to unpack though she noted how _quiet_ everything around her was…. Did Lorca really have this room soundproofed in advanced too?”

“So, er. I want to tell you a thing that most people don’t know about me,” Tilly’s voice wavered but there was conference in the undertone. “I want to be a captain… but I know that that’s a lot I need to learn..”

“I don’t mind helping you.” She answered, why not? Not many people would be as optimistic as Tilly was… especially working with her. “But you must understand that… I’m not human.”

Tilly nodded. “I… thought you weren’t but.. I didn’t want to ask. And Commander Saru said not to mention it.”

“I was human, then I was…converted. I’m what you’ve read about in earth’s texts; a vampire.”

Her eyes widened, no ebb of fear in her eyes. “Cool!” Though she blushed. “Sorry but that does sound awesome.”

“I’m telling you that because… I’m still new to what I am. I have control over blood lust but not perfect. If I tell you to leave me at _any_ time, I expect you to follow because _you_ can’t out-run me… or fight me off.”

Tilly nodded. “I understand.” She smiled softly, though retook her seat with a much happier posture.


	3. Aid for Corvan 2

Despite what Lorca had said that she to expose her new nature to the crew Michael wasn’t keen to jump the gun and shipwide the fact. No, she wanted it to be more subtle so she no longer wore her contacts; the new red on display and a brighter shade since she had been well so fed recently. She also planned to use her speed more frequently. Her collar had been removed but replaced with a bracelet with the same function by Landry from Lorca; she had passed on that he had said it was to make her feel less like an animal.

Tilly had started to ask more questions that night, like what she was going to eat, how fast she could go…. Her enthusiasm had no bounds though she found herself not irritated as she should have been with it before Tilly fell off to sleep.

Though as the night passed, she sat at her desk mostly than waste it by lying down. The soundproof room now was much easier to concentrate. Reading through Alice in Wonderland again, slowly, allowing herself to think back on when Amanda read the book to her… despite how dull her senses were at those time, she could clearly recall the sounds of her voice; the way she spoke…

It left her in a positive mood when the ship’s morning crew was up and running though she took her time to shower as her new uniform was being built up in the replicator though returning, she was still ahead of as it continued though she found herself watching as it was made; the process really quite spectacular as the particles were forcibly sewn into place by, electrical statics clouds before it calmed into still fabric.

 _‘Burnham, Michael. Rank: None. Temporary assignment to the USS Discovery. Science_ division’ The computer spoke as the hatch to the replicator opened and her new uniform was offered out to her. A match to the rest of the ship’s crew. She picked it up, feeling the surprisingly soft texture against her fingertips than to what she was expecting. It’s weight was next to non-existence.

Michael carefully to put it on, like all clothes that were in risk of tearing as she pulled it zip, fastening up the pants zip

“Mirror.”

Immediately her own image appeared in front of her, following her movements as she pulled up the zip of her jacket. Seeing herself, for the first time in a while, in uniform nonetheless, was odd. Her eyes stood out, mostly due to the mismatch of colours of the blue and silver uniform and the pale sheen to her flawless brown skin against the bright red of her irises. Stares were no doubt going to be at full now. Her hair had regained its natural tight rings of brown hair, she no longer straightened them out and she was glad that her hair still grew a little bit. Having her natural hair was no shame; as long it was out of the way, no one gave a damn and maybe it’d help her find a few stage of ‘life’ to continue on. Her eyes flickered down. The uniform was a good fit and left a lot to move with little worry of tearing, she noted. Though her eyes flickered to her chest, a soft and redundant sigh leaving her lips. No badge. A firm reminder there… she was never going to hold a place in Starfleet again. She was at the lowest part of the organisation.

The door opened suddenly but she barely moved though the scent easily identified the person as Tilly.

“My god, you should move much more!”

Not the first time she had heard that her natural stillness being referred to in a complaint. Was it really _that_ unsettling?

Michael smiled softly, “Cancel Mirror.” Her image disappeared so she turned her gaze back to Tilly who was standing with a huge package a few meters away. “Sorry.”

Tilly chuckled. “Most people would jump or…you know, _blink_ at a new and sudden arrival. I know you can’t hear _out_ anymore but it just… bordering a few level of weird that-“

“Tilly. The Point?” Her head nodding to the case she had in her hands.

“Oh!” She waddled forwards with it, “This came for you, but you were showering and I, well, I was fully clothed so I thought why not save you a trip, despite the fact I know you could down there in a second with that whizz speed of yours, which is awesome-“

“Tilly.”

Tilly nodded though held the case out. “Got it. Stop talking.” She noted.

Michael took it and placed it onto her bedside. Her eyes washing over it’s surface as it continued to ding and then placed her fingers over the top. It dinged.

‘Michael Burnham, are you willing to accept the last will and testament of Captain Philippa Georgiou?’

Almost immediately, Michael reacted, grabbing the case and tossed it under the bed, hard enough she knew there was a dent in the floor and the fact she startled Tilly. She wasn’t going to deal with that…. not now.

“Oh my god, I’m sorry!” Tilly exclaimed in a soft voice but Michael shook her head. How was she to know?

‘Michael Burnham, to the bridge’ a voice called overhead.

“See you later.” Michael whispered before departing from the room very quickly until she got to the turbo lift, waiting as it started it’s decent towards her deck- one of the few things she was limited to since there was no stairs and she didn’t fancy crawling through the Jefferies tunnels simply to speed up going where ever she was. No. she had to have tact and common curtsy and she saw this to stay a little more ‘human’. Outside the room now, the sounds of the ship continued to assault her ears but she noted the sounds coming from the Bridge; sounding much like there was a battle happening; calls and voices and Lorca’s commanding voice over the alarms. None that reached to her level and the ship was stationary. A simulation.

In front of her, the door opened and she walked in though she felt a mild ebb of surprise to see Saru standing there, the same expression echoing over his face too. Yet she didn’t speak as the doors closed. What was there to say? She could feel the shifts in his body temperature to gauge that he hadn’t expected to see her. Perhaps Lorca hadn’t enlightened him of her stay? The answer the obvious. Saru’s heart rate did increase within the silence.

“Bridge, Direct.” Michael finally answered, staring ahead at the inside wall.

Saru continued to boil in silence so she simply waited for him to figure out what to say. Sure enough it came soon enough.

“By all accounts, Burnham, You should have been on that prison shuttle. I take great pride on knowing _who_ is on the ship and _what_ they’re doing.” His tone was much different since the last time they had spoken. Back then, they had been on more…civil terms in their good byes. Apparently not now.

“Captain Lorca invited me on until the end of the war to help. After that I certainly will be going to a prison facility.” Michael answered. “I can tell you weren’t informed.”

Saru’s hand fidgeted a little. “Lorca keeps his own council. But I would have recommended alternative decision since we lacked the position of Mutineer on this ship.”

Michael turned her red gaze to him and he seemed to resist squirming in it. “I am only here to help.”

“Hm.” He didn’t sound convinced. “You’re not covering up?”

She knew what he meant. “Lorca.” Was her simplest answer. While he did have questionable motives, that answer would give a reasonable answer. She was glad though. No more looking through warped plastic that dissolved every hour.

Her answer didn’t satisfy Saru but it still answered. She looked back to the doors, noting how much closer the simulations were sounding.

“Where are going to acquire your…food.”

“Lorca’s got a costumed synthesiser in-the-making for my diet needs. Culber is supplying me packs from the Sick Bay until then.”

“From Sick bay? _Really_?” She felt his look is disapproval.

“Would you prefer they _didn’t_ feed me, Commander Saru?” Her eyebrow rose. “Or have me feed directly _from_ a human instead?”

Saru stiffened but looked away sharply with a huff residing in his chest before the doors pinged open.

Almost immediately, the sounds got louder and action immediately happening. It hung in the air with the smell of adrenaline and stress, all focused on the screen in front of them. Lorca barking orders and the bridge crew trying to accommodate the orders and to what the simulations were cooking up. It looked almost real until they lost.

Standing by the screen, Lorca finished by sarcastically clapping his hands which did little to help the Bridge’s moral.

“Very nice. Polite even.” He started but his tone was hard and dry, expressing his displeasure. “Our Ship is the only one in Starfleet that has the spore-drive. To get us wherever we need to be and to fight to end this War. But….we only have _one_ chance. Battle is not a simulation. If we fall, so does the federation. The war is lost. So we need to get our act together. Starting _here_.”

“We’ll do better next time, sir.” Landry spoke up at her console.

“Well it’ll certainly be hard to do worse.” He muttered though moved from his place towards Michael and Saru. “Commander Saru, keep running the simulation until they get better.” He ordered. “Burnham, with me.” He brushed past them and into the lift so she smoothly followed but said nothing as they descended down.

Though the doors opened to a lightless hallway though she immediately noted how silent the rest of the ship was as soon as they stepped out and the doors closed.

“You do like sound proofing a lot of rooms, surely someone must wonder why?” She mused out loud, following Lorca’s speed.

“It’ll help you concentrate.” Lorca answered though she sensed that there was more to it than that but she didn’t question it. “But since we’re the tip of the spear for the federation, we need to do more than just fly good and kill a couple of Klingons. We need to survive, don’t we?”

Michael sensed it was rhetorical so didn’t answer. Behind them, the lights were flickering on though she could smell the scent of decay further ahead. A morgue?

“What is your point, Captain?” Her tone remaining polite.

He chuckled “My point is, if we’re to survive, we need the best weapons at hand. You can help me with that.”

Michael frowned deeply. “I…was assigned and happy to help Stamets with the spore drive. Though I hope you’re not implying I weaponize myself for your cause.”

“Oh, god no.” He shook his head, “As interesting as the idea is, Starfleet as…limited that option anyway. No, I have something else in mind and would put you to better use.”

His words did little comfort but they stopped at a door. Her head turning from Lorca as it opened and entered. The immediate smell of decay was ever-present, her eyes immediately touching on the dissected tribble on a small table, guts and dead offspring exposed but it was clear as day that this was a lab, filled with weapons and specimens. Though she could hear something else, another scent familiar. Immediately taking her mind her back to the Glenn…. The same heavy heartbeat that echoed and it’s raspy breathing and dragging claws again the metal.

Her fangs sharpened out as it tickled her instincts. “Why the hell have you brought something so dangerous back with us?” She demanded, darting over to the containment pen though heard the creature react with a growl though didn’t move from its dark corner. Its shape easy to identify but its heat beat certainly increased. It probably remembered her…. Remembered its claws couldn’t kill her; its own instincts told it that she was a threat.

“You figured that out faster than I thought.”

“It’s the loudest thing here.” Michael turned her gaze to him. “Why do you even have it?”

“It’s a weapon.” He strode from the doorway to the pen beside her. “Like everything else. I study war and this is how. Why nothing but the best?”

“And the creature? What do you expect me to do with it?”

“Study it.” He turned his attention to the pen now. “It killed a lot of Klingons and didn’t get a scratch. Its claws cut through the hull of the ship and its hide is able to withstand the power of a phaser set to kill. Impressive. Useful.”

It almost felt like he was describing _her_ durability— not that she knew if she could withstand a Phaser set to kill; her internal fluids were flammable and she didn’t want to put that through the test.

“I want you to find out what it’s made of and weaponize it for the good of the federation. As I said, we need all the weapons we can get. This could be a key to success.”

Her eyes narrowed a little though she eyed him for a second longer. This was not a negotiation, her answer would have to be ‘yes’ if she was to stay. It was her orders. The outcome of disobeying that was clear. But this idea was uncomfortable. He couldn’t ask her to study her _own_ biology; Starfleet had done that work and classified it for the need-to-know and her sentient nature also prevented the extensive nature of testing that Starfleet wouldn’t legally allow. This creature was Lorca’s _second_ best option under her. Logic was simple.

“I’ll get right on it.” She answered. “But remove the dead tribble. Its smell is distracting.”

 

* * *

 

The silent nature had proven itself to prevent distractions as she worked. Running multiple scans over the creature for it’s biological understanding. No one would be able to understand it without knowing what it needs. It’s food for starters. If they needed to keep alive it alive, it’d have to eat.

She had yet to check on her own replicator’s development but she could feel the ebbs in her throat at the reminder, the only current distraction. Nothing she couldn’t ignore right now. The creature moving around did little to settle any of their moods as she finally received the dietary scans.

_‘Scans indicate a diet based on foraging on vegetation or other passive means of obtaining nutrition.’_

“Huh…” That said enough. Diets did often show behaviour patterns, vegan or vegetable diets weren’t necessary linked to predatory behaviour; only threat displays or self-defence. Predator behaviour was more for the carnivores or omnivores. Fight for meat and to kill. From what she could see of it’s jaw and anatomical shape, it didn’t look like a meat eater. It _wasn’t_ a predator. Given her position, she knew it very well.

Michael’s head shifted if a little as a scent drafted in before the doors opened.

“Commander Landry.”

The steps echoing in paused for a fraction of a second and an increase of breath. “I hate it when you do that.”

Michael turned to face the Commander, “I assume Lorca sent you down here.”

Landry shrugged, sidling up beside her. “He thought we’d make a good team.” She lent onto her elbows, her eyes running over the screen for a second. “My tactics, your science… work on Lorca’s little pet monster.”

Michael turned her gaze from the screen to the human face, her eyebrow perking. “How do _you_ know it’s a monster, Commander?”

If Landry was uncomfortable with her causal use of term while talking to her, she didn’t know it. So for now, Michael didn’t let it bother her.

“I’ve seen that it did, so do you.” She stepped away and stared into the darkness of the pen. “Let’s name it Ripper. A name to fit it’s MO.”

A soft sigh escaped her lips, though Michael wanted to roll her eyes at the commander. They did see the creature differently. She only saw the bad, not the good. Who knew what she thought about working with her.

“It’s not a predator. It’d know.” She started, “but given it’s scans, The scans I’ve taken of its biology has shown shared natural traits with a Tardigrade species. Microscopic, docile and lives in the waters of the earth and can survive in extreme temperatures on both sides of the spectrum.” She brought up the motional image of a earth Tardigrade, which looked vastly similar in shape and appearance.

“Microscopic?” Landry’s head tilted to the pen.

“Macroscopic in our case. Its build doesn’t match a predator species. I’ve been looking into it’s diet and how it understands our world—”

“That’s not what you’re here to test for, Burnham.”

“No, I was put to study it and to weaponize it, but that goes hand-in-hand with understanding its biology.” Michael corrected smoothly. “If we don’t know how to feed it, how will it survive? If we don’t know its other biological means and necessities, it could still die and we’ll be left without Ripper.”

Her logic didn’t have enough flaws for arguments, and she could see the look on Landry’s face to know she was displeased but had nowhere to go with it.

“How did it get on the Glenn?” Landry asked, choosing a different question after a moment.

“The Glenn’s recent Logs were corrupted, expected with the damage but the Captain did make earlier logs. They detected a stowaway, but there was no hull breach or any unregistered microbiota in the transports pattern buffer.” Landry’s eyes widened in surprise so she continued, “This was found rummaging around in the lower cargo decks.”

“We _need_ to find something Lorca can use on this thing….poison sacs, rage inducers…rage glands.” Again, Commander Landry’s comment did little to settle her xenoanthropologist side. Straight to the end without knowing the means. That was a death-call in the wake.

“Stop judging the creature by it’s appearance and by an incident it was involved in.” Michael spoke, a tone of warning in her voice, “What it looks like _isn’t_ what it is. You’re in a room with me, remember. Nothing on a biological level will suggest this creature will attack with any other reason but in defence. We do know is how it response to aggression and violence but one thing I do know, It’s scared of _me_.”

Landry’s breath came out in a huff, her arms folding over her chest. “You’re not human, I know. I know you’re dangerous but don’t overestimate your value on this ship. We don’t have the time to have sit back and study everything with gloves and a scanner. Lorca wants something as soon as possible.”

Michael’s eyes narrowed sharply. “Then let’s get back to work.” It wasn’t the politest thing to answer back with to a superior commander but she darted to another monitor as other results of her scanning came through.

 

* * *

 

Michael continued to work, keeping to herself than talk to Landry who hung around though was less than impressed with the silent treatment though she found herself quite pleased on the amount of data she had got on the creature. Sleeping habits, food was yet to be in full detail but like all living things, it needed water to survive too. She kept the live feed scanner going, monitoring its vitals to brain activity.

Though it had seemed to settle more as she stood further away. Michael jad just finished the scan of its digestive system; no human or Klingon matter within it; only adding more proof it didn’t kill for food. Though she found herself intrigued by the last reaming dregs of food in it’s stomach.

“Computer, identify remaining food within its digestive tract.” Michael spoke.

“Working.”

“Is that really necessary?” Landry asked.

“It’s producing some form of energy. Its pattern is… familiar.” It looked remarkably like the spores energy patterns in Engineering. Degraded of course. But the only link the ship and the Tardigrade even had was the spores.

Curiously, she picked moved monitor and brought up the schematics of the USS Glenn, going straight for it’s storage section where the Tardigrade had been found. She easily remembered listening in on the conversations happening around where while she had been working in Engineering, including. Stamets’s conversation with Straal…

“Landry, in Engineering, Stamets’s collect the spore from that off-room, correct?” She hadn’t wanted to wander but she could draw up a conclusion that perhaps they didn’t store it like they did on the Glenn, she could see the stock of spores in the ships manifest but on theirs? They looked to fresh.

“Yeah, why?”

“So, like some sort of forest?”

“What are you getting at?”

Michael took that as a yes

“The USS Glenn and Discovery have two things in common. Spores and the same propulsion system. Something tells me the Tardigrade was also another thing in common.”

“We’re here to weaponize it, Burnham, Don’t get distracted.”

Michael didn’t move though soon enough the results came back in. her lip curled up a little.  “It fed on the spores on the Glenn.”

Landry moved from her monitor and slid over to her. “Excuse me?”

“The Mycelial Spores. It’s diet did suggest it ate vegetation. If it eats spores, it _must_ have a connection to the spore drive.”

“Again, not our mission. That has _nothing_ to do with it!”

“Missions evolve. We can still use it with a purpose.” Michael moved the data onto a PADD, “By all means continue but I must talk to Stamets and Lorca.”

“I am the chief of security, you’re here to study and creature. Do as I say and continue with our mission.”

“I will, Commander Landry, but if Ripper is a key to getting the spore drive up and working, why delay? Lives are at stake and Lorca has made it clear that the spore drive is what makes this ship so special. What if this information arrives too late and we couldn’t jump to a necessary location because the chief of security wanted to keep our noses down a little bit longer.”

“Don’t you _dare_ speak to me like that!” Landry stepped forwards with a hiss but Michael found herself responding on instinct to the heavy threat of tone. Her eyes shifting _darker_ red and she growled straight back; her fangs extending and bore them at her. Landry immediately stepped back, her heart picking up and the flicker of fear passed through her, even Ripper snarled at the change in the air.

Then suddenly a high pitched sound pierced through the lab, echoing and resonating through her ears. Her hands shot to her head at the shrill though her eyes were straight to Landry; her thumb pressing into her wrist, exposing a somewhat similar bracelet… then her hand move and the shrill stopped.

Michael glared, irises going pull black but she had nothing to say. Using _that_ was a bridge too far... she hadn’t _done_ anything to deserve that.

Landry’s face held some look of smug satisfaction as she pulled her sleeve back down. Michael darted picked up her dropped PADD and shot away and up into the turbo lift.

“Computer, where’s Captain Lorca?”

_’Captain Lorca is currently in Engineering with Lieutenant Stamets’_

“Engineering.”

Immediately the turbolift started it’s move and rest of the ship’s life returning into her hearing rage; she could now hear the voices og both Lorca and Stamets’s voice arguing about the spore drive

_‘Captain, as I’ve explained, Every time we try a long jump, we lose all navigational stability. Jumping is probabilistic. Linger the jump, more possible outcomes.’_

_‘I get it, it’s trial and error. Let’s try something.’_

_“We lack the processing power to make the right number of calculations to keep to course.’_

_“What were they doing that we’re not?”_

The doors of the lift opened though she followed the conversation as she moved quickly through the corridors, startling a few of the crew in the process but she came to a pause out the lab before the doors opened and she slinked in.

“Oh shit!” Stamets stepped back, almost tripping over his seat at her appearance, expression and eye colour.

Lorca turned to face her, his frown deepening as he took her in. “What happened?

Both Stamets and Lorca were by the spore console, Saru also not too far away, a holographic diagram between them and she could feel the stress handing between them, that only rose at her interruption. Especially at the expression of Saru’s face that clouded over more

“Landry. But I think I have a new development,” She answered, keeping her focus to Lorca and mission.  

“Then let’s get to my Ready room.” The captain made a gesture to lead the way but Michael shook her head.

“Actually, this _will_ need to include lieutenant Stamets.”

Lorca’s head turned to look at the man in question, even Saru’s. “Why?”

“The creature on the Glenn consumes the mycelial spores. I found traces of it in its system. It provides an alternative idea of use.”

“Wait, that monster’s _here_? On Discovery!” Stamets’s shot back and straightened up.

Lorca put a hand up to stop further word from him but he looked confused. “So?”

Michael pulled out her tablet though held it out to Stamets. “I believe that the creature ended up on the Glenn for the mushrooms. It’s food source. But… how it gone _on_ is still a mystery…. Say, like as mysterious as ships coming and going without a trace?”

All of their eyebrows shot up, realisation setting in their faces as they realised what she meant.

“Wait, you think the creature _used_ the network to travel?” Saru questioned.

“I don’t have proof but it’s one of the few logical conclusions I can draw. I suggest we should perform a few tests with the spores and see how it interacts. From there, a direct understanding if there’s more to the Tardigrade.”

“and if we can use it?”

“Then our ability to jump is… resolved. We may not use the creature to the original idea but this is our next best alternative to get the ship to do its thing.”  Michael answered.

Lorca nodded. “Permission granted. _Quickly_. Corvan 2 is under attack and we need to get there before their shielding collapses in less than 6 hours”

Michael’s eyes shot to him quickly but nodded. “I’d be happy to assist.”

Stamets continued to look at the PADD, disconnected from their conversation.

“Why are your eyes black? I thought you were well fed.” Lorca asked, a little more quietly.

“Landry whammed me with that device.” She held up her wrist in displeasure; exposing the bracelet she had now. “Apparently I don’t like being threatened and she didn’t like that I got… _irritable_...”

A soft snort left Lorca’s chest though his face was a little more passive. “Get to work, keep me updated.” He walked away though Saru followed in his shadow.

Michael turned her focus back to Stamets who frowned deeply. Fiddling with the PADD. “I think I’ll need more to work with than readings, Burnham.”

The vampire nodded. “I know. I’m going to collect the data from Tilly’s tricorder and the other scans from our mission on the Glenn. Maybe that’ll shed more light on what it was doing and why it was even kept.”

Stamets bobbed his head softly, “Okay Let’s get to work.”

 

* * *

 

Things from there went very quickly as she sorted through the data quickly, Stamets was in the other room with the spores though now she had time to adjust, as annoying as the spore sounds was, there was a therapeutic edge to it. Unique music to her working.

“Anything?” Stamets immediately asked as soon as he exited the other room and stopped beside her, looking to the screen.

“Many things. The damage to the Glenns engineering door… the room. All consistent with things trying to break out, see how the metal bends out into the corridor or the glass on the engineering’s floor but not a lot in cube.” She traced her finger over the screen, “The room itself was shielded. Meant to keep something _in_.”

“You think Straal used the creature in the spore drive?” It wasn’t a question as it was a statement but his tone was much more open than it had been since she had met him a few days ago. Curiosity, Maybe.

“I heard your conversation with him…He did say he found a way to work out the kinks— I have good hearing, despite focusing on work.” She added, seeing his eyebrow raise. “Anyway, I think Straal did use the creature, and as you said, you’re missing a piece to make the drive work.”

“And the Tardigrade is that piece?”

“I do. Why else would it even show up on the Glen to start with? It came looking for food and Strall found a way to work with the network with a creature that uses it too. An all assess pass… but we just have to make sure the same thing doesn’t happen to us.”

“I can work on a few things, make sure that doesn’t happen.”

“Good.” She’d most likely survive it if it’s happen but she really didn’t want to be surrounded with those bodies. At least now they knew what to avoid. 

“Let’s… test your theory.” Stamets’s nodded her back to the door so Michael moved after him with a new tricorder in hand, watching as the inside forest came into view. The scenery almost astounding. It certainly _was_ a forest in a star ship but she couldn’t deny its beauty.

The stems of the plants few tall, the greenest of colours at its base it stretched up into numerous shades of red and purple at the top of the almost flowered buds… new spores filled the air in release of the plants, screaming their quiet tunes as they moved and floated amongst each other. The room was huge and she could tell that each corner was filled. First field she knew of to be in space…

Stamets moved forwards, flicking out his comm-link but Michael noticed the grip he had on his phaser… and the fast heartbeat in his chest. He was nervous. Understandably. Probably not how he saw his day going at all. “You should put that away, Lieutenant, Its more scared of me than it is of you.”

“That’s not reassuring, Burnham.” He answered softly as he shifted in his spot, fingers flexing on the handle “I saw what it did; you didn’t get a _scratch_ off its nails. That leaves a lasting impression”

“ I’m not here to be feared.”

“Right…” Stamets fiddled with the comm-link and brought it up closer, “Energize.”

In front of them, the Tardigrade appeared in the bay and almost immediately headed for the plants. Michael groaned softly though, but turned on her tricorder. The spore sounds seemed to change frequencies, changing from higher and lower fast and rapidly and she could hear it’s mouth as it sucked in it’s flying food that even moved around the creature as it fed.

“Oh, god, you’re right!” Stamets’s voice was filled with excitement, relaxing even as he stepped forwards in amazement as he watched. “Look how it’s interacting with the spores…shifting and moving as if they’re communicated.”

“ _Sounds_ like it too.” It was very distracting but Michael nonetheless continued to scan with the tricorder, letting it whirl and beep as it scanned though on the screen, it was clear to see on another level they were. “I’m picking up energy transfer… most be some form of symbiosis. It _is_ talking to them.” She could hear the creature as it moved, the sounds it made so gruff but she knew that was more to it than what she was simply hearing. Yet this was the calmest she had ever seen the creature. Like it was in its own happy place. It almost made her feel sad that they were going to use this for their gain.

“Aww, that hardly seems fair. I always wanted to converse with my mushrooms” Stamets’s tone was very calm now, almost in awe of what he was seeing. Now the creature was docile and content, it no longer represented a threat. If they kept it fed well, then they’d make real progress. And they had plenty of time still….

Her tricorder continued to whirl, providing more data to her fingertips. “Not just that, but maybe tell them where to _go_. Using the tech from the Glenn, we could try and integrate them with the Tardigrade. Our potential _new_ navigator as I hypothesised.”

“Let’s try it!” An edge of excitement entered his voice next and she could feel it in his mood. Like a switch. It made her own mood lighten from what Landry had pulled earlier.

Not wanting ti risk losing the creature, it was energised back to the pen though Michael was quick to get word to Lorca they had a potential fix for the spore drive, immediately around the ship, the tensions rose and Lorca’s voice called up to the bridge crew to get ready and going into _black alert_ , even Landry’s return onto the bridge as she got ready.

Michael moved around to the monitors beside him, watching as he pulled out a spore-filled canister and plugged it into the console; filling the reaction cube.

“Mr Stamets, are you ready?”

“Stand by, Captain.” The man in question replied back, “Energise.”

The orange light filled the cube and the large beast moved restlessly inside but almost immediately the machinery started up, the two injector stands shifted and their tech immediately regisured to the creature.

“We’ve transported the Tardigrade into the cube, everything seems to be starting up.”

Michael’s eyes followed the creature as it moved, moving closer though she could feel…something from the creature; it’s heart had increased and it’s heat shifted but… with the door closed, she couldn’t pick up the scent to know what it was feeling. The two injectors twirled and jabbed into the tardigrade’s skin. The squeal it gave off was sharp and echoed into her… pain.

Behind her, more of the tech started up, lighting up but her mind was on the creature as it whined.

“Wow! This is… every star system that’s been charted!” Stamets breathed out but she still didn’t turn as he continued to speak. “The creature is holding all of these coordinates in it’s head!” Amazement laced in his tone. “Setting the course for Corvan 2…ready to jump”

Michael felt a shiver in the air.

 _“Is anybody not ready?”_ Lorca’s voice in the Bridge, meaning only that group; the man power and the control to take down whatever was waiting for them. If they failed, the ship would go up….

“Go.”

Michael’s body stiffened up closing her eyes as she felt the same shiver in the air and the pressure static hum, feeling the whole place shift with pressures…. Her hands clenched…

Then they jumped

The feeling was much worse than the last time, it almost made her feel nauseous. Michael knew she lacked the ability to follow through, a relief to some degree. No one wanted to see _that_ mess in the Engineering room. Above her, she could hear the bridge crew talk, like the simulations but this was far from that now…

“Can you hear what’s going on?” Stamets’s asked.

Michael’s head turned but she didn’t open her eyes, trying to listen past the creature whines.

“Two birds of prey are down, the shield of Corvan 2 are still holding at 51 Percent.” Michael described out loud, not everything got translated down to Engineering at a time like this, but they’d certainly be expected to be ready for more. “More birds are circling around… Detmar’s stopped the ship… Hold tight.”

Immediately there was a second scrambled before the whole ship shook but Michael barely moved.

“Shield’s holding at 75%, get a new jump ready.” Stamets grabbed another canister and plugged it in.

“Engineering,” Lorca called through.

“Spore drive is prime, sir.” Stamets called back.

Michael’s attention was brought back as the Tardigrade as it roared. Trying not to let it get to her as Stamets lay in a new course.

“Birds of prey, closing in. Captain’s ordered to hold…” Michael continued

“Tell them we’re ready to jump.” Stamets called though but not to her…

The ship continued to jolt and move.

“…Go.” Then the whole ship started it’s move, the air changed and the feel returned, then the whole motion followed. Her jaw clenched a little as they landed but she heard their success.

“Birds are down.” She groaned out softly, though she opened her eyes to see the injectors finally pull out of the creature’s skin. Around her, she could hear the air change, to relief and joy; they had been successful… yet something felt wrong. Why did it feel wrong?

Ripper groaned out softly in a way that unsettled her.

“Excuse me.” Michael took her leave from the Engineering, walking slowly this time back towards her quarters.

* * *

 

Michael lay on her bed, blissfully enjoying the cut off from the rest of the ship. Not feeling for the celebratory mood as the rest as they no doubt partied about it. The beeps under her bed continued but she ignored that too.

She knew what had been wrong. Ripper. _Using_ Ripper… a good idea with a useful creature; but it hurt it… why was she so… _empathic_ for _what_ she was? Why did it ring with her so much that it was in pain by the jumps? She hadn’t expected it for sure, but she supposed it should. What else was those needles _supposed_ to do? She shouldn’t care so much. There was plenty she didn’t care for on this ship and she couldn’t bat an eye but with Ripper… There was no certain way that they could keep this up if they kept hurting it. The creature would fail, sooner or later and the jumps would grind to a halt. Discovery would be forced to find an alternative plan. They needed to get on that as soon as possible.

The door opened though she didn’t react to know who it was, the bright orange in her peripheral vision said just as much as the scent.

“Hey.” Michael greeted first.

“Hey,” Tilly started, moving to settle at the edge of her own bed. “You okay? Stamets said dashed out of engineering pretty quickly. Your eyes are so….dark and broody.”

“I have things on my mind. Uncomfortable things.” She didn’t quite know what to do about them... one was still beeping under her bed and the other was in its containment pen.

“Well everyone’s been talking about what you did… you helped save all those people. A lot more than expected. You figured it all out so quickly.”

Michael shrugged softly. “My neurological activity is much faster than a human brain. I can process a lot of information at once and conclude just as quickly with the Logic I grew up with.” She just happened to look at the right place and the right time. Better than getting the jump wrong and ended up in a sun or everyone getting twisted and distorted like the Glenn crew.

“oh.” Tilly tone was more of a sharp hum though her stare continued, “well I’m sure that’s still a favour in you side there. I heard Landry’s been upset about you walking out on her ass and Lorca’s apparently thinking of demoting her.”

Michael wanted to laugh or smile but she couldn’t bring herself to.

“We’re hurting the creature.”

“Huh?” Tilly’s head tilted.

“The Tardigrades.” Michael pushed herself up to sit. “It was in pain. The whole time.”

Tilly’s eyes watched for a moment, her hands coming to remove the bobble holding her hair in its base-bun. “How can you tell?”

“The sounds it makes… I can feel the changes of heat. But… hearing it… It brought back bad memories for me. Emotionally at least.” Her mind had been far too occupied at the time to think back but this alone time now… it certainly made the weight and memory resurface now.

“Oh?” There was a hint of an question to continue in Tilly’s voice as she started to unzip her uniform jacket, preparing herself for bed.

“When I turned. The _pain_ of it… is always the first memory I have of this life. It hurt.” It was so easy to recall. “I don’t know what happened much before that… human memories through dull senses; things are so…different in perspective.”

“You.. You don’t have to tell me…if you don’t want to.” Tilly’s voice wavered though Michael knew she certainly had her attention.

“I know.” She shouldn’t pile this onto Tilly, not after such a successful mission. “but…we can’t rely on the Creature. It won’t last. I can promise you that.” She could feel it.

Tilly’s breath was light and she nodded. “Okay.” She agreed. “I think… we should start looking into alternatives. We can talk with Stamets tomorrow and work with him.”

Michael nodded, she could do that; fix her mistake. They’d also need to rope in a doctor to help confirm the suspicion. Dr Culber was the only one she knew so he’d have to do.

Under her, the case gave another ding.

“Look… so I know it’s none of my business.” Tilly started but Michael knew what she was on about already, “but I know this isn’t the best of times either but… that beep isn’t going to stop. While I’m no expert or guru or… someone else who actually knows more than that they’re saying but… that case cross the entire galaxy to find you… I think you should open it.” She pulled her fingers though her red curls that bushed out, mostly in nerves. “The feelings what you’re trying to hide away isn’t actually going away. You’re just delaying it because you’re scared and you shouldn’t be.”

Michael didn’t answer, her throat felt thick but her eyes remained dry.

“I’m not saying because you’re a vampire that you don’t get scared. I’d be worried if you didn’t…” Tilly shifted around, pausing to find her words. “it could help… start the healing process? Ripping off the emotional band-aid can have that effect.” She had moved onto a simile but she felt like she had said enough.

Tilly rose to her feet and grabbed a small bag. “I’ll take a shower and then I’ll be back. Please…just take what I said into some consideration… I don’t like seeing you like this.” She sighed deeply and left.

Minutes later, Michael moved to sit but the thickness remained in her throat and she knew what Tilly said was true. She had to face this. Sooner or later. Eternity wasn’t enough to escape her guilt…Her own Karma was this little dinging case and her immortality. Forever to hold the guilt.

It took a long moment before she could bring herself to even touch it, let alone pull it out and put on her bed… he found herself just staring at it when she did. It felt like Pandora’s Box. The _anticipation_ felt like dread of what she could see… what would be haunting her. Her breath was held, as it had been for the last couple of minutes.

Her hands felt like they should have been shaking, but her hand was still as always as she placed it over the insignia.

_‘Identity confirmed: Burnham, Michael. Do you accept the last will and Testament of Captain Philippa Georgiou?”_

Any answer felt stuck in her throat…. Was she ready to ‘pull off the band aid’ as Tilly suggested?

“I accept.” This left her but not by accident; _absently_ doing anything, even talking wasn’t possible. She _had_ to…

" _Hello, Michael.”_

In front of her, the holographic image of Philippa appeared but she couldn’t stop the sharp gasp at seeing her face… So fuzzy in her memory but now, despite the flaws in the holographic display, she could see her captain so clearly… her face, those brown eyes that looked so _alive_. The warmth within them that ached in her chest, wrapping round her dead heart like a vice. Her brown hair that had been left down and loose, free even. So soft.

And the way she spoke… the blissful ignorance of not even knowing what she had done yet. This recording had been long recorded long before her death; there wasn’t that _look_ of betrayal in her face or eyes. Her words still stuck ‘ what an ego I had; to think I could pick away the shell the Vulcans had put around you ’ She doubted she could forget that… how her captain felt about her after what she done.

 _“I hope that wherever this finds you, you are well. I imagine you have your own command now. The captain of your own ship. I have always tried to show you by example. The best way to know yourself is to know others. You are curious, an explorer. So I am leaving you my most beloved possession, handed down through my family for centuries. My hope is that you will use it to continue to investigate the mysteries of the universe, both inside and out, and keep your eyes and heart open always. Goodbye, Michael, and good luck. Know that I am as proud of you as if you were my own daughter. Take good care. But most importantly, take good care of those in_ your _care._ "

Michael’s breath was held further, watching as Philippa moved and talked but it only tightened the pain and guilt. Her hologram froze, fixing her with a last warm smile before it flickered off… the case opening… revealing inside an all too familiar telescope…

She inhaled deeply but then she smelt it… so old, so subtle… the telescope holding onto some lingering scent; a one she knew for certain belonged to _her_ Georgiou’s…

“Oh god…” She closed it sharply but the pain still sat that within her… this was all her fault still..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehe yay! another chap. Took longer than i'd like but here we are. TBH, i didn't like how they killed Landry off so soon; all a rush job and tbh, i think there could be more fun keeping her a bit longer.   
> I know I've kept it to canon line more but once the spore issue is done then i see every reason after to branch away; let her explore who she is now. I also know how weird this story can be but please bare with :P
> 
> I'd love your thoughts so please drop a comment


	4. Culber's Assist p1

The scent of Georgiou seemed to linger in her mind as she lay on her bed, back away from Tilly as she dressed for the day. The blood-scent _edge_ of the scent… it appealed greatly to her. Aching in her throat the dry sensations of thirst. Two days since she had last fed… Yet knowing that it was Philippa’s scent made it hard. A scent she hadn’t realised how much she missed; how more prominent it was with this new sense of smell; familiar and new at the same time… It threw her back to their times they were alone, talking on projects, the ship or simply the occasional downtime. She never realised then how she had smelt; it hadn’t been important. Now it felt like that faint smell was and she _couldn’t_ forget it now. A committed memory; a reminder to herself perhaps.

“Now, err. Michael, I think we should go now. We can talk over what we have to say to Stamets while I eat.” Tilly suggested in a hesitant tone but Michael nodded. Why not… the distraction to the reality was no doubt what she needed from the 8 hours of thinking of Georgiou and her guilt. She rose from her bed, straightening out her uniform and walked along with Tilly as they left.

Wrinkling her nose as they entered the Mess hall; the smell of food was less than pleasant. While Tilly ordered, Michael sat at a table. Her eyes ran around the room though her eyes fell on Detmer, at least the back of her head; she was sitting with the other pilot officer, Owosekun and an augmented human female who Michael didn’t know; chatting idly with each other as they ate. Their topic of conversation was yesterday’s success before the augmented human noticed her stare, getting a glance back from the other two. Michael turned her head and gaze onto Tilly as she returned and sat down happily and started to tuck in.

“Everyone’s conversations are still about yesterday.” Michael remarked. “No one has yet figured out my…differences.”

Tilly shrugged. “You’re not exactly making it _obvious_. You haven’t been here for too long… and your eyes are looking darker. Hardly see the red as much”

“I am aware.” It did make her curious on the state of her replicator. They weren’t easy builds, especially if they were customised for only specifics. She expected it to take a few days anyway but it didn’t make her any less comfortable.

“So, how should be even _breach_ the topic?”

“Bluntly but first I want to get Culber on board to start medical scans before jumping onto Stamets about it. I suspect we may do a few jumps, get comparisons of any damage that could be prominent. I also know Culber’s been aiding on… my replicator. I _need_ to be fed in the next day or so.” Though she knew her limits… she could easily request the Brig if she felt uncertain of her control. Lorca shouldn’t question it.

Tilly paused a little, swallowing thickly though nodded. “Okay, though you should probably know that…. Stamets and Culber are married.”

“I didn’t. But I don’t see the relevance of it. They’re professionals.”

“I know but… throwing a spanner in the works could rock the relationship. Culber might not…like the idea Stamets hurting the creature.”

“Stamets doesn’t otherwise know yet. Until we know for sure, Culber’s work might help persuade Stamets to find a solution with us.”

Tilly nodded, her shoulders sagging a little though continued to eat.

Though Michael stare passively ahead, holding her breath from the smell of food, past Tilly her focus remained elsewhere…The thought of Detmer _here_ , that had made her mind wander. Particularly on re-watching Georgiou’s last will in her mind… to the fuzzy memories Detmer on the Shenzhou with her, Saru too; their banters as friends and co-workers… it made her wish all over again to reverse time… to relive those good times. Before she messed up… before she became _this_ frozen monster…

“Michael.” Tilly’s voice echoed in her mind.

Michael allowed her mind to resurface, the heat around her and the heart beats quickly informing her of three presences around her that didn’t include Tilly.  Her eyes flickered, surprised to see Detmar and the other two hovering with their trays.

“Keyla…” She started though she watched as the pilot stared at her with her new synthetic eye and other metallic augment that stretched along her cranium which had been shaved back for it, no doubt from her injuries at the Battle of the Binary stars. It twisted guilt further; she had helped cause this.

Detmer eyed her for a moment then looked to Tilly for a moment. “Can we sit?”

“Sure.” Tilly smiled and sat back to allow them more space as they set down their trays. Michael didn’t need to move, her hands were balled up on her thighs and she was sitting at a reasonable distance to not touch the table.

Michael’s eyes did turn to the augmented one, inhaling softly though she definitely picked up a human scent from under the plastic and metallic implants which told her a little more about her states as all the others, even if a little more masked.

“Aren’t you eating?” Detmer’s voice pulled her attention away to her, noting the expression on her face, whose eyes were flickering to the empty space in front of her.

Michael shook her head. “I… can’t eat food anymore.”

A frown appeared on her eyes though she looked more confused than anything.

“She’s not human.” Tilly pointed out, ever so brightly to help clear up the confusion.

“You can’t just turn into a different species, Tilly.” The Augmented one spoke. Michael felt Tilly’s look of worry, nervously chewing a little more on her fork.

“You can.” She moved forwards and placed her hand in the centre of the table. “I did. I can prove it if you touch my skin.”

Their curiosity over road their caution. Detmer placed her fork down and with some hesitancy reached forwards, four of her fingers coming into contact with her hard cold skin and there was an Immediately recoil reaction. Detmer pulled her hand away, as if she had been burned and even her heart increased.

“Shit!” She jumped to her feet, “What… _what_ are you?!”

This was louder than intended and drew immediate attention from the rest of the Mess hall’s occupants, chatter dying down. Tilly however, despite being self-conscious at the centre of attention, continued to eat normally.  Michael resisted the urge to stiffen up, allowing both the augmented woman and Owosekun to touch her. Though Owosekun didn’t react nearly as badly as Detmer but she pulled her hand away very quickly, her hands gripping her tray tightly.

“You don’t need to be scared” Michael started calmly. “But I don’t feel that telling you would… be productive. If you want to leave, you can.” She didn’t want to push the two over the edge and freak them out, baby steps would be enough. They’d put pieces together soon enough.

The two looked to each other and quickly got up, leaving their trays. The augmented one stayed, though didn’t seem at least concerned.

“They’ll come around.” Tilly hoped with a sigh.

Michael’s curiosity grew as she looked to the other woman “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name?”

“Lieutenant Airiam.” She answered. “I work the spore drive on the bridge.”

Micheal gave a nod, she had seen her there when visiting Lorca but never thought much on it. “And you’re not scared of me?”

Airiam offered a smile and shook her head. “I’m accustomed to… change.” Implying her augments no doubt.

“I appreciate it.” She did. Though she hoped the other two would come around.

Airiam nodded though turned her attention to Tilly and they started to chat.

 

* * *

 

This continued for a while though Tilly had somehow managed to eat and talk at the same time before they broke away and headed towards the sickbay but Michael stopped sort of the sick bay doors.

Tilly noticed and frowned. “What?”

“I shouldn’t go in.”

“Why not?”

“Spilt blood is my concern.”

Tilly’s eyes widened a little though nodded in understanding. “Okay, I can get Culber to come to you…”

“That would be ideal, Thank you.” Michael smiled at her though Tilly was quick to bound away; listening out as she called for Doctor Culber.

 _“Tilly, I’m surprised, do you need anything?”_ Culber asked a moment later, a note of concern in his voice as well as the scrape of medical tools on a tray.

_“Well, Michael wanted to talk to you but she’s not for coming in Sickbay.”_

_“Ah.”_ A note hovered in his tone though he immediately started for the door. _“Where is she?”_

“Just outside the bay doors.”

Culber’s steps were fast and Michael heard the first door open before the second that parted the corridor and the sickbay though he was surprised to see her standing close.

“Burnham, Is this about the replicators? I’ve asked about it but the Engineers are finding the specific natures hard to calibrate for it to _fully_ satisfy your cravings but they might have it up and working soon.” Culber started.

“Actually, I need your expertise on _another_ matter but I appraise the update; I was planning on asking about it.” Michael started though Culber cocked his head to the side with mild confusion.

“Okay?”

Michael stepped aside to allow a few crew to pass than stand in the way, the other two following though Michael didn’t plan to beat around the bush. “We’re currently using the Tardigrade as our navigator, I’m sure you heard whispers from the crew and Stamets himself since yesterday.”

Culber nodded but didn’t interrupt but no doubt still wondered why he was being consulted.

“However, I believe the jumps are causing harm to the creature. I need your expertise in monitoring it’s health to prove to Lorca and Stamets to find a more… long term solution.”

“How can you be sure it’s in harm?” This was a question out of curiosity than passing the issue off.

“It’s sounds and heart rate. It’s elevated. Anyone in pain would… also make it known in what it can verbally. Whines, moans…”

Culber shifted, frowning but nodded softly. “I can look into running scans, however, this is still an unknown alien life form. Each species will respond pain and stress differently and it’s likely you could be anthropomorphising.”

“I _know_ what pain feels like.” Michael couldn’t help the hard edge in her tone. Culber’s eyebrows rose sharply but she knew she had perhaps stepped a bit too far. “My apologies, Dr Culber. That was uncalled for but I endured 73 hours of constant and excruciating burning pain in my transformation. I am…more in tuned with it in non-humans.” She knew it was psychological to her vampire physiology; less empathy for humans. No doubt to make it easier to eat them.

Culber nodded. “I’ll run the tests.” He agreed. “If your replications not done by tonight, I’ll swing by and deliver our available provisions.”

“of course, Thank you”.

Culber offered them a tight smile and left back the way he came though Tilly let out a sharp breath as soon as the doors closed

“That got a little intense…”

Michael turned and headed away, expecting Tilly to follow. “Unintentionally. I apparently don’t like disregard…”

Tilly snorted though they entered the turbolift in silence. “So… what’s it actually like?”

Michael looked at her softly. “You may have to be specific, Tilly.”

“Well, being a vampire. You’re so still and…eerie calm. It’s unnerving.”

“Being still… it does come naturally. My muscles are comprised of a rock like substance so I’m unable to grow tired or uncomfortable. I don’t _need_ to move so I don’t.” That was the simplest way to explain that aspect.

“That’s gotta have some draw backs… thinking about standing still makes my muscles ache.”

“You’re squishy.” Michael chuckled.

Tilly snorted again with a huge nod. “I suppose. But you’re eerie behaviour, surely there’s logical reason to that…”

“Perhaps I do see the world in a new filter. My lack of pulse may contribute. I’m still unused to this form and the psychology behind myself. Determining what is my personality and what determines my vampire nature… I have yet to discover. Empathy is limited, I have noticed. Especially with humans directly concerned.” Michael mused.

Tilly hummed with a hint of satisfied wonder. “I suppose it’ll take time to get used to. I mean for me too. You still hang around our room but you don’t sleep so…”

“Lorca’s planning, maybe to keep me more humanised?” She had thought of that being the case; being kept around a human would no doubt ground some of her mentality down. Get her used to human presences much more was the logical reason for his mentality; he wouldn’t have thought that deeply into it. If he didn’t like Tilly, then there was the darker side of TiIly being considered _expendable_ if she slipped up; nor did Michael want to voice that… Tilly’s enthusiasm was encouraging and quite pleasant. She didn’t want to her to lose that.

“Oh!” Tilly grinned, “That’s nice. Makes sense too, I suppose”

Michael smiled and the doors pinged open. Landry stood waiting though didn’t hesitate to get in and stand behind her as the doors closed again though Michael could sense her mood drop though that left Tilly and herself quiet, not wanting to discuss the issues that could be passed onto Lorca via Landry so quickly.

“Are you coming down to Engineering?” The turbolift opened to the usual deck and Tilly hovered between the doors

Michael shook her head, “Not this morning. I’ll meet up with you at your lunch time.” She had yet to get the scans necessary for Ripper for the base line. Culber would no doubt need it for when he’d come down. “However, if you could send down some spores, that’d be ideal.”

Tilly gave a nod and scurried away, leaving the vampire alone with Landry as they descended down. The silence continued though the shifts in the woman’s body heat indicated she was debating on talking.

“Lorca authorised the removal of the bracelet.” Landry spoke, disdain in her voice. “On the events yesterday, He’s under the impression you’re in full control and no longer need of a leash.” Her tone didn’t change.

“I know when to leave a party, Commander. Your actions did prove illogical in getting what we need and would have ensured your death if you tried to hack at it. A rush job.” Her calm tone didn’t change but she had her point.

Landry snorted. “I’m the chief of security, you’re just another of Lorca’s monsters _outside_ the cage. We humans have _all_ and _every_ right of worry.”

Michael didn’t physically react but it made her chest tighten at the cold nature of Landry’s words. Lorca’s monster? Whilst she doubted that wasn’t the worse name Landry could have come up with, it did hurt.

“Well, at least you now know how Commander Saru feels around _you_ now.” Michael quipped back darting out of the turbolift and down the passageway back into Lorca’s weapons lab, stirring the creature who groaned out but sounded better. No doubt had its recovery time but then again, that would no doubt be temporary.  She hovered around the pen, watching it for a long moment; assessing its behaviour and heart rate before she headed towards the monitor’s again, bringing up its scans and started a reassessment though her mind lingered on what Landry had called her

 

* * *

 

As expected, Culber eventually found his way down, though Michael felt his stare as he handed over a spore filled canister to her.

“You okay?” He asked.

“I’m fine.” Her tone was curt and displayed her mood very clearly to the doctor. Michael twisted the top off the canister and closed the pen shielding, placing the canister in and darted out, standing next to Culber and watched as the spores rose; the tardigrade didn’t hesitate to go for it, his circular mouth dripping with saliva as it sucked down the spores.

“You’re agitated.”

“When you become an expert on vampires?” Her tone had mild sarcasm.

“Since you got on board. Behaviour assessments was also documented in your new species file. Your eyes are dark, you’re posture is stiff and your expression remains ever passive. Your tone also gives it away, I guess human traits still lingers.”

Michael didn’t answer but he had seemed to be accurate in his assessments. “Are you psychoanalysing me, Dr Culber?”

“Not intentionally, Burnham. But I do want you to consider me a friend here.” He turned to look at her with a soft gaze. “I want to help.”

Michael glanced to him, her gaze softening somewhat. He was right… out of everyone, he had actually been the most open person, dangers aside to help her. Especially with her dietary needs. It was unfair to be moody with him. She let out a redundant exhale of breath.

“It’s nothing major.” She started. “Landry’s unnecessary comments of my nature don’t sit well with me.”

Culber frowned though nodded softly of his understanding. “If she keeps doing it, inform Lorca. She should know better.”

That had been the plan; last thing she wanted was to snap at the woman to just prove the woman’s point. It could be why but she wanted to be better than what was thought of her. Like Tilly, Culber saw her as a _person_ , not for what she was. It was refreshing.

Michael have him a nod though led him to the monitors for the first update and began to talk him through the creature’s biology.


	5. Culber's assist  p2 | Discussions of a new Navigator

It took a week until they found suitable amount of evidence that said enough to indicate the creature’s well-being was declining after 3 jumps to break down a Klingon supply line though Michael found herself handing around with Culber when he was able to come down to the lab; his medical know how and her expertise on alien life helped her determine more about it and how to help it.

Though as they took their last set of scans together, Michael immediately noted the pulse of the doctor quicken and flush into his cheeks as he cross referenced them.

“You’re worried?” She stated out loud.

Culber looked to her for a moment then shrugged. “Scans show a lot. Now we’ve had the chance to understand it’s biology, it has a _lot_ of brain activity. More than what a non-sentient creature _might_ have.”

Michael’s eyebrow’s pulled together at his implication. “It’s _sentient_?”

“The scans are _indicating_ it.”

Her head turned to the creature in the pen that was dozing now though she could put together the behaviour she had witnessed over the last week in her mind with ease. The behaviour had always been… different. Its awareness of what she was was more than instinct and memory…It used to be scared of her, now it was just….used to her being around. Like it had learned her behaviour on her _personality_ not nature hence it knew she didn’t want to attack it unless in defence of herself or others…

“if it is true then we won’t be able to use the creature…” Michael voiced up, “General Order number 2; no use of unnecessary force and 3; impending the rights of an individual… I believe that’s applying. We’re-”

“I need to get more in depth scans to further out the details, those order’s don’t yet apply without solid proof and the subject of non-objective view from the CMO of this ship” Culber interrupted. “That said, we’ll need to inform the captain and Lieutenant Stamets immediately.” He downloaded the data onto his PADD.

“Why don’t you make a head start; I can catch you up.” Michael took his PADD from him to add her own work onto it. The doctor nodded and headed away back out the lab and towards the turbolift. She waited until everything had downloaded and darted after him, slipping into the turbo lift as the doors closed.

“Jesus!” Culber flinched at her sudden appearance in the small space though she smiled softly. It hadn’t been the first time she had startled him in this manner though it offered a little amusement at his expense though he otherwise didn’t complain; no doubt seeing the humorous side of it too.

They entered the bridge though to her pleasant surprise, both Lorca and Stamets were at the captains chair and from what she could tell, talking about potential jumps. Michael spared a glance to Culber though Saru’s attention was drawn to her as expected.

“Permission to enter the bridge?” Michael called, drawing Lorca’s attention though his expression seemed to cloud over with concern at the sight of Culber with her. No doubt not a good omen.

“Granted.” Lorca nodded them forwards. “What’s the problem?” His eyes flickering to Culber as he spoke. “Has your replicator stopped working and you need donations?” A hint of doubt laced in his voice.

“No.” Her replicator was finally up and working though it was in the mess hall but unlike the regular replicator, it was designed a blue colour to stand out and required a code to be used; no one wanted to use it accidentally. She had used it once and though it did its job and filled her cravings, she had her own input to add; it just hadn’t been relative of late. “It’s on the subject of the Tardigrade.”

“Oh.” He seemed a little less concerned now.

“Would you like this conversation to be more private, Captain?” Culber asked, his brown eyes flickering around to the bridge crew. Lorca eyed them for a second before he rose from his chair and headed to his ready room.

“Lieutenant Stamets, you’ll be necessary.” Michael added before the blonde male could walk away. Stamets’s head tilted though he followed after them and into the room. The vampire slinked in last and handed over the tablet to Culber.

“Over the past week, we’ve been monitoring the Tardigrade’s health before and after jumps. Burnham got concerned after hearing its distress. Her vampire nature makes her more attuned towards certain emotions. Fear, pain and anger _particularly_.” Culber plugged the PADD into the holo-projector at the standing desk. “There are signs that show with each jump, we’re negatively damaging the Tardigrade.”

“I was told it was indestructible.”

“I believe that was a misconception, Captain.” Michael answered, knowing the side-line look she got. “While it does have regenerative properties, its tough skin and claws do not ultimately fall into indestructibility as it does with _me_. But it’s not as much as damage to the body; it’s centred on its frontal cortex of its brain.”

On the hologram, Culber brought up its brain scan.

“The damage isn’t significant as of yet. But it will get worse if we continue to use the Tardigrade to jump. If we don’t find an alternative solution, then the tardigrade dies and we lose the use of the drive.”

Lorca let out a displeased huff. “Here I was hoping for good news.” He shook his head, his arms coming to fold over his chest. “What can you do for the creature to make it better?”

“Nothing. Its physiology makes it impossible to insert a hypospray. We can collect its DNA however but treating this… I do not see how.” Culber answered.

Lorca eyed them for a moment then looked to Stamets for a moment. “Until we find a solution, we need to still use it. Work with Burnham and Tilly to find a solution.”

“Yes, Sir.” Stamets nodded.

“You’re dismissed.”

Michael stood as she was as the other two left. The conversation wasn’t done. Lorca’s eyebrow rose as he realised she wasn’t gone. “Did you not hear me?”

“I heard you perfectly captain but there is another concern.”

“Which is?”

“The Tardigrade’s scans indicate the creature may be sentient. If true, as we continue to abuse it then we— or _you_ specifically— could be looking at a court martial. Especially if it dies under our care. Culber has already submitted the indication to its species file-report.”

Lorca’s eyes narrowed a little though she could smell the flash of Epinephrine enter his system that immediately brought a minor flush to his cheeks, an up kept blood pressure and his pupils to expand a fraction. He was not happy.

“Until I get a full statement that can tell me it’s 100% certain it’s sentient, I don’t want you to go around telling everyone. Okay. It’s a crucial part of our drive and I don’t want to answer to the admirals of why our drive is suddenly not working.”

“I’m sure due to general order 2 and 3, they’d be forced to understand the reasoning, sir.” Lorca’s jaw clenched though Michael knew the warning signs as his face got redder in colour. “I’ll get right onto mission, Captain.” She didn’t wait for her dismissal before she darted away and took the next turbolift down.

 

* * *

 

Stamets and Tilly were already in the Engineering lab alone when she got there who was debriefing the red-haired on the current situation. Tilly brightened up when she saw her. Michael smiled, feeling more relaxed in her bubbly attitude though she could feel Stamets wasn’t as pleased to see her.

“Lorca is displeased which is expected. I am sorry my contribution has not lasted much longer, Lieutenant.” Michael started to Stamets.

He eyes her for a second then nodded his acknowledgement. “Let’s get to work.”

Michel’s eyes flickered to Tilly who shrugged calmly though she had a soft gaze as Stamets headed to the monitor beside the reaction cube. She moved to stand behind him though Michael watched her he moved back to stand beside her with mild discomfort.

“How long until the damage compromises the Tardigrade fully?”

“I have not run full simulations but by estimation of its recovery, or lack thereof between jumps recorded, maybe 2 weeks if jumps are kept to a minimum.” The math was quick and easy to calculate though she knew it wouldn’t hurt to have a visual simulation to correlate the facts.

“So we have 2 weeks to figure it out.” Stamets mused, “Anything else I should know?”

Michael hesitated though it was easily unnoticeable before she answered. “No.” Lorca had made it clear what not to bring up. If need be, Stamets would read all about it… not to mention, he hadn’t told Culber to be quiet about it. Just her.

“Then let’s start at the beginning” On the screen, he pulled up the picture of the plant, “Prototaxites stellaviatori. A unique fungus species that’s made up of exotic material found no only in normal space but in a discreet subspace; the Mycelial Network. Its fungal roots spread across the vast universal space of both domains that creates an almost interweaving and intergalactic freeway system.”

“Then there’s the Tardigrade. It’s unique genetic makeup allows it to have a symbiotic relation between the network and itself via the spores; and that relationship them allows it to have an all-access pass to the network to travel. From the data collected and compared against those from the Tardigrades from earth, this Tardigrade is able to incorporate foreign DNA into its own biology via horizontal Gene transfer. From there, once it’s given coordinate, it know where to go.” Michael continued, though she knew that they no doubt had read those initial reports.

“What options do we have if we don’t involve Ripper? Surely we could build a virtual Ripper and trick the system to think it’s a real thing.” Tilly suggested.

“We tried but we only managed small jumps… but I suppose that’s what we were doing wrong; this network requires a biological life form to function to achieve it’s full capacity” Stamets mused, his attention to the problem though his low mood seemed to lighten up considerably. “Fascinating…”

“So we need to find a life form that needs to have traits the Tardigrade does; cross reference and run simulations to see if they can take on the genetic compounds. We do have to consider that…. one new interfacing navigator may face the same fate as our Tardigrade.” Michael pointed out. There was always going to be that risk, she supposed.

“We don’t know that, but maybe we can find a way to combat the damage done and suppress the network’s effect of the subject’s since we know _how_ it’s causing damage, right?” Tilly input lightly, bringing out the brain scans of the creature and filing through the data.

“How much DNA of Ripper do we have?” Stamets asked.

“A few hypospray shots’ worth. It moults somewhat similar to a human and their skin cells; it how it keeps its hide strong and fresh.” Michael explained “Replicating the DNA for more without the use of the creature as a source… it’d be difficult for correct genome replication but not impossible; I know we have it’s DNA on record here.”

“But it’s enough for now. Let’s start by cross referencing necessary parameters for a living host.” Stamets started, taking over the monitor quickly and spread it onto the reaction cube glass for further space.

 

* * *

 

Michael found herself wrapped up with her discussions with Tilly and Stamets, finally getting the parameters set out and a few simulations running. Tilly focusing on the species list while they ran more in depth simulations with the DNA sequencing.

Stamets sighed deeply as the latest on rejected. “I would have thought this would have accepted the genetic transfer. It’s biology—“

“No,” Michael shook her head, “It’s biological cycles fluctuate too much. The DNA won’t bind strong enough.”

“So it caused the bonds between the proteins to collapse; resulting in a painful and mutating death. Lovey mental image to company me tonight.” Stamets mused, shaking his head though he looked at her. “What about vampires as a potential subject?”

Michael looked to him sharply though his eyes were filled with much more curiosity. “I…don’t know. My genetics aren’t available on your system since it’s classified.”

“But we know humans share almost all the perimeters of what’s necessary, but _you_ or something like you might get past the ban since you upgraded from humanity.”

“Vampire transformations are in debate on if its eugenics or a biological reaction to the venom.” Michael ran her tongue over her teeth a moment. “It was a colourful conversation.”

Tilly snorted softly. “Well, so far there’s no laws against it at the moment.”

“But we also have to consider the facts of your body. Your skin for a matter; it’s too hard to get a hypospray to inject anything into your system.”

“No, Lieutenant Stamets, the hardness of my body; it’s more than skin deep.” Michael explained, she placed down her tablet and pushed up her sleeve to expose her arm to him, allowing him to touch. Hesitantly he did, blinking at the cold though his hand felt so hot against her flesh. “Every cell in my body has become… crystalline. My unnecessary organs were… shut out and reconstituted to process and to store blood. Nothing goes to waste.”

“That last bit sounds so useful. Never having to do a dump again.” Tilly quickly muttered.

“Reconstituted?” Stamets carried on as if Tilly hadn’t spoken.

“It’s… not exactly easy to explain. My lungs only function to stimulate sense of smell as I don’t need to breath, my stomach is… probably the only prime organ that I use that’s now direct to my former veins; they’re used to transfer ingested blood throughout my body where my non-venomous fluids puts it to use.”

“Wow, sounds so trippy…”

Michael smiled at Tilly’s words “But the fact remains, everything else, its solid mass.”

Stamets pressed his hand around her wrist, in a tight grip though it felt like nothing more than a loose grip’ his nails trying to dig in even though he chuckled softly and let go.

“What about a human who’s taken the DNA and then turned into a vampire?”

Michael’s head tilted but shrugged. “DNA does change in the transformation. My venom is poisonous to most animal life forms. Vulcans are the _probably_ the closet species that _could_ survive and turn like humans. So it might not work and the DNA gets leached out, or the possibility that the change in the DNA transfer could _reject_ the venom and kill the subject in a very painful way.”

She suppressed a shudder at the thought of the change… and putting someone else in that position… It wasn’t a pleasant experience… she couldn’t bite someone to make sure that this worked; there was a cost to what she was.

Stamets chewed on his lip softly then yawned. “While _we_ don’t have access to your venom genetic code you could… give us a sample, we could input our own for the simulations.”

“I don’t want to turn anyone into something like me, Stamets.” Michael turned to face him, folding her arms across her chest and her red gaze soft. “It complete _agony_ … and it lasts for three days. I can’t put someone through _that_.”

Stamets’s eyes softened, his hand coming to touch briefly on her shoulder. “I’m not asking you to turn anyone, Burnham but we need acceptable options. And if it is an option, then it’s the subject’s choice.”

“This life isn’t worth a human one. You’re frozen. Never moving forwards with the burning craving of human blood that _never_ goes away.” He had to know how serious it was. He had no idea… Especially if they were relying on _her_ venom for this. It takes two people to make a vampire; the vampire itself and the human. As a vampire herself; she’d no doubly _have_ to be responsible for creating another otherwise that won’t end well. She just hoped though that this option was hypothetical and not an action plan.

“Can I go to bed now?” Tilly asked after a moment, “Sorry, but it’s getting late now and while this is a very interesting turn of conversation; my human brain needs to sleep to function optimally.”

Michael away from Stamets to Tilly, noting the lights of fatigue in her face. “I can stay and continue simulations here while you two rest.”

“No, Burnham, take a break.” Stamets sighed, saving and closing the monitors down.

“You’re still my roomie, I don’t care if you don’t sleep. Take a breather.” Tilly removed herself from her station and hooked a soft arm around her though Michael knew the woman wouldn’t physically able to budge her, she moved with her anyway. Maybe they were right; a mental break at the very least.

“Okay…”


	6. Working the projects

Michael found herself still thinking about the project through the night, running minor simulations on her PADD and writing out a small species report about herself for Stamets to look over which didn’t feel all to comfortable with; she could see the potential avenue he was peering down. To get around the whole issues of eugenics; turning a genetically modified human?

Reading the updated debate of her ability to turn humans into vampires like herself was interesting. A point from Sarek had been made to stall the decision to illegalise transformations that changing a human was a _vampire’s_ way of _reproduction_. She saw that logic; vampires weren’t able to carry or conceive so they turned humans to keep the species going. Everyone had the right of reproducing, including her kind it seemed. The point still had merit so the decision wasn’t finalised even at that point. A point she hadn’t considered before.

She just hoped Stamets wasn’t an idiot to go through with _using_ her venom without really knowing what was in-store for him. She wasn’t ready to be responsible for a newly turned vampire if it came to it. It had to just be a passing idea.

Tilly’s snores did little to really distract her as the night passed though she took the time to have a long shower and a new change of fresh clothes. Though she couldn’t mess up her uniform via sweat or other bodily fluids, the environment certainly could. Michael was just zipping up her jacket when Tilly woke with a snort and a cough.

“Good morning.” Michael greeted lightly as the human pulled a face as she inhaled strands of her hair.

“Ugh, what time is it?”

“4:55 am.”

Tilly pulled a face, groaning as she buried her face into her pillow. “This time is so unholy! God!”

“Then stay in bed, Tilly. You’ve got two hours and five minutes before you’re on duty.”

Tilly just groaned nonetheless, flinging an arm over her eyes. “Hm… I so want to do that…”

Michael’s eyebrow arched. “But?”

A huff left Tilly’s lips. “You gotta train me!”

“I can at a more…’holy-hour’ as you put it.” Michael smiled, her hands flattening out the creased in her uniform before “Then we can continue out project on the Engineering lab with Stamets.”

Tilly continued to lay dramatically for a further few moments before her heat rate evened out and she began to snore again, Michael’s lip curling a little in amusement before leaving her to it. Tilly had been to bed later then usual so she didn’t want to wake her again.

Michael darted from the room, moving quickly through the hallways and passing a few of the Gamma-shift crew who felt the breeze before she entered the mess hall and straight to her replicator.

A scent lingered in the air, her brain registering who it was before she had stopped though she didn’t acknowledge her as she pressed the screen for her order than speaking it out loud. Inside, she could hear the mechanics getting to work, much more interesting .

“You’re up early.” The remark was cold behind her but Michael didn’t move.

“I don’t sleep. I simply _left_ early. Commander Landry. I know you’re aware of this fact” Michael corrected, her tone cool. Easily recalling how their last conversation had been like, she wasn’t for a repeat of that now and certainly not when she was going to feed.

Commander Landry just huffed out air with indignance before sipping down her coffee.

With a _Bing_ , the replicator opened up and a 500 ml Bottle-shaped container, opaque white though unlike normal bottles, the surface was without an opening and flat-top with two small raised bumps. Wrapping her hand around it, she could feel it was hot and no doubt heated to a body-temperature.

“What the hell is that?” Landry continued to comment though Michael sat down a few tables away with her back to her.

First attempt to drink from a glass, a straw and bottle hadn’t _started_ well after her change. Michael always found herself biting through the materials; her teeth far too sharp and the whole notion of either of those options just didn’t sit as well without the gesture as biting _into_ something. A bite instinct. Nature. So this design was perfect for her.

Bringing it to her lips, her teeth sunk into the rubber like rise with little hesitation though it brought immediate satisfaction; the tensions in it was touch, human teeth couldn’t bite through it but her teeth was so _very_ sharp. She could feel her fangs though sink much deeper and puncture through into the hot liquid that immediately filled her mouth. Her eyes closed as she greedily drank, though the flavour was bland, it soothed the heavy itch in her throat that felt like she had swallowed a pepper.

“Burnham.”

The voice remained insignificant as she drank, feeling the bottle tighten up as she sucked up the fluids with no release of air though the drags of it soon started to wean, feeling the air bubbles.

“Burnham.”

A touch to her shoulder triggered a reaction. A growl ripped passed lips her lips and she immediately grabbed the human and flipped them straight into the table, a sharp winded gasp leaving the human’s lips but the scent and the reality caught up with Michael in a second before she heard the startled call of another.

“What the hell is going on here?” Saru demanded, storming in at the commotion.

Michael’s head raised though she bared her fangs at the Kelpien for a longer moment, removing her hand from Landry’s neck.

“You _never_ disturb a vampire while they’re feeding.” Michael spat out to the commander as she moved back. “You should know that!”

Landry pushed herself up from the table with a wince, breathing shallowly as she brought her hand to her neck. “Excuse me.” She was quickly to dart from the Mess hall, leaving her with Saru.

Her fairly happy mood of the morning was now officially soured. She could feel her fangs weren’t retracting in her mood but she knew she reacted on instinct, she knew Saru knew that too. As a prey species, he’d _know_ not to disturb a predator when they eat on the risk of a backlash bite.

“Oh…dear..” Saru sighed deeply out, “Well at least you didn’t hurt her….”

Michael looked at him, closing her mouth and ran her tongue over her teeth to wipe any residue blood from them. “She did that purposely, Commander Saru. As Chief of security, she’s read my file to know what not to do.”

“Be that as it may, she is still a superior officer. I can’t help but understand her fears with you…this had no doubt shown me that but don’t give her more reason to be scared of you.”

“You’re a prey species, I understand your nature compels you to think the worst of me.” This wasn’t meant out of malice but she was tired of hearing how dangerous she was. “Excuse me, Commander.” She didn’t give a second before she shot off into the direction of the Engineering labs.

 

* * *

 

As expected, Michael could hear the occasional whisper long before Tilly made an appearance along with Stamets to continue on their projects. She immediately handed her report to Stamets who happily went over to a corner to read it.

“Oh my god, did I hear right, you attacked Commander Landry this morning?” Tilly spoke with a edge of a whisper.

Michael turned and gave her a look, raising an eyebrow at the red head.

“Okay, sorry I know you’re not the sort of person to do that but… well you hear things…” She was rambling.

“Tilly.” Michael started, “Would you ever some up to me and disturb me while I…feed?”

“Oh god no, you’d tear my throat out!” Tilly exclaimed then paused as she realised what she said. “Wait, I didn’t mean-“

“It’s okay, Tilly. You know by instinct too _not_ to do that. Landry on the other hand disregarded the memo.”

“Okay, that does sound fair. She should know better… god I hope Lorca doesn’t get mad at you for it!”

Michael shrugged softly. She could handle Lorca and the issue wasn’t her fault. “Let’s just get back to work Tilly. If Lorca has a issue, he can call me on it.” She couldn’t hear him around so it was likely he was still asleep or in his ready room.

Tilly nodded though headed over to her monitor with a deep and tired exhale as she re-read over the last few things, no doubt to refresh her mind.

“Hey, Burnham.” Stamets’s called, not changing in volume as some would in calling. But Michael turned to him, looking at the breakdowns and DNA strands.

“Lieutenant.” She darted next to him, barely noting the slight flinch though her focus turned to the projection. “Is there an issue? I did the best I could. I was allowed some access to my file.”

“What- issue? No.” Stamets shook her head. “But were you aware your…venom contains DNA.”

Michael cocked her head. “Given it’s from me, that is expected.”

“No, I mean another _person’s_ DNA.”

“Come again?” A note of surprise lingering in her tone. She hadn’t… why would she have someone _else’s_ DNA in her venom?

“Your Venom has a DNA structure, on that is the chemical composition but the DNA strands are different. It at least carries half of another person’s genome. I could easily mistake it as a feeding pattern but… if your DNA is right then this other DNA isn’t…human. Your Kind… it says you have 26 Chromosomes. Humans have 23.”

Michael frowned though took immediate control of the hologram for her own assessments. How had she missed this? For all she knew she was the only one and she certainly hadn’t had mouth-to-mouth with anyone for cross contamination. What would even the purpose be for having _another_ vampires DNA to start with?

“Is it possible that… it could be the result of being turned?” Tilly called over. “I mean, you were turned from _something_ else. Maybe it like… a signature of who turned you or..the fact it was that other person’s venom that went through your body. Surely that’s bound to leave something in your system.”

“But that does help… If we could switch out the foreign DNA strand with the Tardigrade then you’ve got yourself a perfect hand-in-hand match for the success of it.” Stamets moved around her and back towards Tilly, sounding quite excited.

A soft breath passed Michael’s lips, feeling a welt of annoyance that he was still fixated on turnings for their spore needs.

“I’m pretty sure the drive still needs a _living_ navigator, Stamets.” Michael spoke, waving away the hologram.

“We can still run simulations.”

“I’ll continue looking through the species list. I don’t want to miss _another_ viable option.” Her tone was cooler as she started her own simulations. He wasn’t going to let it drop and she had to see an alternative option before he really put that idea on a path where it became reality.

Neither of the two answered though they continued to chat as they did so.

 

* * *

 

“Damn it…”

Michael’s head turned to the door, the soft voice easily identifiable as Lorca’s before the doors even opened. Despite the fact it was now late morning Lorca looked a little sleep deprived by assessments standards though his mood was easy to make out; Landry’s scent drifting off him so Michael knew what he was here for.

“Captain Lorca.”

“What is this I hear about you attacking Commander Landry?” He started angrily, drawing the attention of the other two from their simulations.

Michael remained unfazed as he stopped a few feet away. His heart elevated.

“It was not intentional.”

“Not making it better, Burnham.”

“As Chief of Security, Commander Landry should remain very aware never to touch or disturb me while I feed.” It was an annoyance to say it for a second time to a new person but here it was. “An instinct reaction to a potential threat to my food. We’re apparently more territorial to keep our food from being taken.”

Lorca’s eyes remained narrowed but her reason had logic he couldn’t dispute. “Landry-“

“Sir,” Michael started, interrupting, “Commander Landry is purposely aggravating me. Check the security footage if you doubt. She has already attempted to rile an anger response by calling me names.”

Lorca continued to stare though his pulse seemed to even out and the flush of heat in his face returned to some normality. Lorca inhaled deeply and nodded and stepped away.

“How is your progress going?” His attention shifting now to their work.

Stamets’s eyes flickered to her for a moment though Michael darted to stand next to Tilly to continue.

“Much slower than thought, Sir.” Stamets started. “We’ve narrowed down the requirements of a host to take over but there had hardly been a viable match that’s legal.”

“What’s not legal?”

“A human.” Michael spoke, “however eugenic experiments aren’t allowed.”

“We are looking into alternative solutions, however you could possibly give us access to more restricted files on species, sir?” Tilly answered.

Lorca’s gaze turned toward the Cadet but nodded. “I’ll see to it.” Though he looked back to her. Michael met his gaze. “No more incidents” This was more of a warning and it prickled her teeth but she nodded anyway and watched as he left, the doors shutting behind them automatically.

“So..” Michael turned towards the other two, “No one thought to mention about turning a human into a vampire hybrid for this project to Captain Lorca?”

Tilly snorted at her phrasing.

“Last thing I want, Burnham, it Lorca getting over excited on creating more of you.” Stamets shrugged, “He already co-opted my spore work for his game of war, we don’t need to add another thing to the list and we certainly don’t want your kind to be weaponised.”

“Well it’s a pleasant surprise you care.”

“You are _intimidating_ , Burnham, without the intent of being so.” Stamets shrugged.

“It just means your self-preservation reactions are working, Lieutenant.”

“Again, that doesn’t offer any comfort.”

Tilly moved around the monitor towards the reaction cube with her PADD though Michael knew it was her way to get back to work.

“Well, if this is good news or bad news, the Tardigrade DNA does appear to be accepted into the strands…. We’d have to run the simulation of a human subject with it to see if there’s no side effects but…”

“Then let’s run it…” a note of aspiration lingering in her tone. This wasn’t going to be dropped… at all it seemed.

 

* * *

 

 

Lorca moved from the Engineering back to his ready room to Commander Landry, allowing the doors to close behind him to the blissfully darken room. Landry was still there and on her PADD though the bruises on her throat was still easy to see in the light.

“So, you thought it’s be wise to interrupt a feeding predator, Commander? You and I both know not to do that.”

“She was ignoring me, Sir.”

“You are human, she is not. I know you’re testing her patients but if she kills you, it’s not her fault.”

Landry scoffed, shaking her head. “She shouldn’t be here, Gabriel. She’s a monster.”

“Burnham’s a useful Monster. She’s needed here, on this ship under my command.” Lorca started angrily. “She’s a weapon to the federation. She’s more useful here than as a miner.”

“And if she snaps and goes on the rampage? I read the reports.”

“That was when she was newly turned and no one knew what the hell she was, including herself. She won’t do it again”

“Why are you defending her?!”

“I _need_ her on this ship. Landry. Like it not.” Lorca’s voice rose, his voice commanding. “So, keep out of her way unless necessary, don’t make snide comments and don’t touch or do anything to aggravate the most dangerous being on this ship. That’s an _order_.”

Landry’s face remained bitter, like she had swallowed a lemon. “Yes. Sir.” Her voice held the emotions of anger too but she turned on her heel and stormed out.

Lorca huffed out, reaching for another fortune cookie. “Damn it…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hehe so what do you guys think so far?! I'd love to hear your thoughts on the story so far and what I might be hinting at later on.


	7. Turn of events

“Do I really have to be up this early?” Tilly groaned as she slipped on her running shoes.

“Yes, you said it yourself, you want me to help train you so this is the most ideal timing.”

“It’s six in the morning!”

“You get up in 30 minutes time every day. The half an hour difference won’t kill you.” The vampire reasoned, her arms folded as she waited for Tilly by the door.

“Unless I wander sleepily into an airlock and jet myself out.”

“I hardly see that likely, Tilly.” Michael chuckled.

“I never said _accidentally_.” Tilly quipped back, straightening up with a deep sigh and pulled her hair up into a bushy, red pony tail. “Let’s go.”

They immediately started their run as soon as they left though Michael had also dressed down into the appropriate gear for the occasion too and easily maintained a brisk pace for Tilly to catch up to. Although she could immediately hear Tilly’s pulse pick up as well as her breath, a minor indication that the woman’s stamina and endurance hadn’t been built up yet. Michael slowed a fraction.

“So… err…” Tilly started. “How long are we going to…run for?”

“We’ll do one lap run, the next a fast walk; a cycle we’ll repeat a few times today. We need to build you up before jumping straight into it. Otherwise it’s exhausting and you’d hate me.”

Tilly didn’t answer but kept on going.  “God, must be so nice to not need to catch your breath…”

A hint of jealousy lingering in her tone which made Michael smile softly.

“It’s a unique change, Tilly but I do miss those small things in life.” Michael shrugged calling ‘left, please’ to the people who were in their way as they jogged. “At least a heartbeat and shortness of breaths gives you the sense of being _alive_ …”

It was a sublet thing to miss, feeling the fluttering in her chest when nervous or scared… the racing when she put herself through lot; the feeling of a unique thrill that was literally pumped through her veins when met with a risky mission; like when she had flown to the Klingon artefact. With that gone, her emotions were released differently through her system. Not carried by her veins and no doubt just different type hormone release around her brain than her body. A complete different physical reaction. Scared, stressed or threatened, she stiffened up, her general demeanour was just an eerie calm… if she was human, she’d no doubt act so different to her current self; all because she would have had a _beating_ heart…

“Still, going red faced and looking like a tomato isn’t exactly attractive here.” Tilly pointed out after a few seconds of Michael’s answer. “Not to mention, heaving like you’ve suffocated yourself…”

“Tilly…” Michael gave her a soft look but she could see they were getting back to their starting point so she slowed to a brisk walk “Can we please just…move away from comparing our physiologies here?”

Tilly’s face flushed a little though nodded. “Okay, It just… there sounds like there’s a lot of benefits of being like you.”

Michael shrugged. “It had a lot of draw backs. But we can discuss this later, Okay?”

The redhead gave a short nod and they fell into silence as they walked. Around them, she could hear a few more of the crew moving around, getting ready for the day. Even Lorca’s voice seemed to be idly chatting to Landry on the bridge.

_‘We still need to run some more battle drills, I need the bridge crew trained in much more depth and alternative situations, Ellen. The Battle’s we’ve done are just the tip of the spear. Get the other shifts of the bridge crew trained up too.”_

_“I thought we were going to join more on the front line? Since the spore drive is up an running…”_

_“There’s been a setback on that but Michael’s team is working on the solution.”_

_“Michael’s team? It’s Lieutenant Stamets’s team, sir.”_

_Lorca hummed, “Like there’s much difference.”_

_“There **is** a difference sir, Stamets is the officer of the Discovery while Burnham is an unkillable, immortal mutineer, getting temporary bail on our ship and **not** an officer.” Landry’s voice wavered with a hint of doubt. _

Michael sighed deeply.

“Where did you go?” Tilly mused, glancing at her in the moment of silence.

“Listening into Lorca’s conversation on the bridge.”

“I really shouldn’t be surprised by your hearing…but I am. What was he on about?”

Michael shrugged. “Talking about me to commander Landry. You’d be surprised how often my name gets put into a conversation…especially with him if I’m honest.”

Tilly hummed though started to pick up the pace. “Maybe he has a crush on you?”

“Oh god, I hope not.” Lorca, _no_. There was something different about his interest that wasn’t about attraction, something deeper she couldn’t put her finger on it but didn’t care for it.

“What? You’re not exactly _unattractive_ , Michael. I’m sure other people find you _very_ attractive. Red eyes are a little off-putting but other than that, you’re like a freaking supermodel. I’m sure there’s a few times where I-”

“ _Thank you_ , Tilly.” Michael interrupted before Tilly said too much

Tilly grinned with a mild flush of blood to her cheeks though they relapsed in silence until they headed towards the Mess hall again some time later.

The vampire took her usual seat as Tilly got her breakfast though she was surprised to see Airiam pull a seat at the table though with Bryce from the Bridge.

“Morning, Airiam, Lieutenant Bryce, this _is_ a surprise.” Michael greeted.

Airiam offered a smile. Though Bryce looked a little uncertain, fingering the edges of his tray but she couldn’t feel his nerves or concern about her. Perhaps he was only with them because of Airiam? Given they had hardly knew each other, that seemed the likely case. Michael’s eyes drifted about, noting Detmer and Owosekun looking their way for a moment.

_“She’s not going to hurt you, Keyla…”_

_“I know but she freaks me out… you didn’t know her **before**.”_

Owosekun sighed deeply. Michael’s focus returned to the ones at her table

“Wow, 2 minutes I’ve been away and you’re already making new friends?” Tilly’s voice spoke as she settled down.  “Here I thought we were going to be left alone because we’re weird and questionable.” Her tone ever so blunt.

Bryce seemed to relax a little more, he smiled softly as he stared to continue his morning meal without interrupting..

“I hardly think that’s the case, Tilly.” Airiam noted, “Despite your differences—” Michael noted the flicker of eyes to her “- your work is getting a little more attention. There’s a chance we’re going to do much more for the War now. Thanks to you two”

Tilly nodded eagerly, “is it also the fact we’re going be stuck in each other’s presences too that you’re broadening your friendship skills?”

“Why are you _questioning_ potential friendship, Tilly?” Michael mused, the curl of her lips more prominent. She didn’t expect herself to gain any friends given her position on this ship and status in Starfleet but Tilly had a lot of options for it, once confident enough… and Tilly had gained a lot more confidence they met… was it a psychological aspect that handing around a thing like herself that did that?

Tilly shrugged, taking a deep sip of her orange juice.

“So, how’s work on the bridge?” Michael asked.

Bryce was the one that shrugged this time. “Busy. Lorca’s keeping us in simulations for the time being. It’s a learning curve.” There was a tightness of displeasure lingering in the undertones of his voice.

“Not a bad thing, we can’t be seen with our pants down at our ankles if we cross paths with Klingons…” Tilly pointed out, finally grabbing her cutlery to tuck in.

“Simulations, not the issue. Captain Lorca’s not easy going when we _fail_.”

“Ah…” Michael could tell by his attitude he wasn’t a fan of Lorca, like the rest of the ship but what could they do. He was their captain and they owed their loyalty to him. She certainly did, even if she was here temporary.  

“I’m sure things will pick up, right?” Tilly added in, “Not like we…have the option.”

Bryce let out a somewhat bitter chortle. “Probably. But that’s more of a wait-and-see sort of deal.”

Michael watched as the two started to chat though idly aware of Airiam’s glances before she turned her gaze to the augmented human. “You’re keeping looking at me, Lieutenant, is there a question you’re curious to ask?”

Airiam paused. “Well, it’s might be personal. I do not wish to offend.”

“It takes a lot to offend me, ask away.”

Airiam still hesitated, placing her cutlery down. “How…did you come about to be turned into what you are now?”

The silence immediately settled at their table as soon as those words left her lips. Tilly pausing mid-bite though her blue eyes widening a fraction. Michael though could see and understand immediately her curiosity and hesitance.

Tilly had been curious but had never dared ask that deep of a question. It was personal and it wasn’t something she did talk about yet she could see the logical side of asking; if someone did this to her through some sort of experiment or not? No other species would have been known to transform a human being, let along break into a Starbase prison facility and attack her outright.

“That is… a complex story, Airiam.” She started, her tone not changing. “You’re worried if Starfleet did this to me?”

Airiam’s head tilted a fraction as she thought. “That thought did cross my mind. As the _first_ fully augmented human, my augmentations did come from star-fleets aid.”

“Starfleet _didn’t_ do this to me. Another of my kind did this to me three weeks into my prison sentence. However, she escaped after. I don’t know if there are others out there.” Michael wasn’t comfortable with the details she could remember, so she certainly was keeping what was otherwise done to her to herself. She didn’t need a look of pity on what the woman had _done_. She hadn’t meant to survive it; that was clear.

“Wow… must be so weird…” Tilly pushed her tray forwards to lean on her elbows. “and to think Earth had others like you, and no one had any _fucking_ clue! Earth is looking like a turn-off now for vacations, right?”

Michael’s lips curled up in mild amusement.

 _“Michael Burnham, to the Ready Room.”_ Saru’s voice called, but this was not over the comms but from the bridge, casually called even. Unusual.

Her head turned in response, the gesture not unnoticed by the human group. “I’m being called. I’ll catch up with you later, Tilly.” She offered a smile then shot away.

* * *

 

Within a few moments, Micheal stepped onto the bridge and slid to Lorca’s ready room. The door opened to see the captain awaiting with a broad and amused smile.

“I _like_ your new hearing range.”

“You were testing me?” Michael’s eyebrow rose, entering the small space. “I did not peg you for that sort of captain, Captain.”

Lorca chuckled, “Testing, no. If you can hear everything on this ship that’s not proofed against you then the need of comms for you is redundant. I got curious.”

“Hmm..” Michael hummed though settled into a formal position, her hands behind her back. Though as she stood, she could pick up the old scent of Stamets lingering around, along with Landry’s. Hours old. Michael thought nothing of it. “Was there something you _needed_ , captain?”

“Your work on the drive mostly. Any _further_ on finding a new navigator since our last talk?”

Michael shook her head. “The potential list is _very_ small for all necessary requirements. Humans are the only current possibility. Use of the tardigrade on other species are proving… fatal. Human DNA is proving to be most acceptable for survivable mutations with little ill effects.”

Lorca’s face scrunched up though she noted how his eyes ran down her figure, no doubt in mental agreement given her own circumstances. “What about _vampires_ for the drive?” The question was abrupt and certainly a planned question by Michael’s assessment of his posture and voice

“Not possible by conventional methods, Captain. Our skin is too hard for a hypospray and injection wouldn’t spread _if_ on the chance you _could_ break into my skin.”

Lorca hummed, moving around his desk, pulling up a holographic projection that she immediately recognised; their human-tardigrade DNA to vampire simulation. From his pocket, he pulled out a hypospray and held it up, inside the cartridge was filled with a silver liquid, her venom that looked to be contaminated and watered down with the other DNA and infusion compound. Stamets’s scent drifting off it.

“You think I _didn’t_ know?”

Michael’s eyes narrowed a fraction. “It wasn’t an option I wanted to exploit, Captain.” Her voice remained ever calm and her body ever still but she felt a welt of nervousness she hadn’t had in a while. “May I ask where you got that?”

Lorca shrugged though slipped it away into his pocket again. “No. But, it does present itself an opportunity; having one of you makes it easy to slip through the eugenic loopholes and gets us what we _need_ to defeat the Klingons.”

Michael’s eyes narrowed but she could conclude that he got that from Stamets. He was the only one that had a vial of her venom to start with, to study… he hadn’t wanted to tell Lorca for this very reason. Unless… Michael pulled up her memory of the engineering room; her focus to her environment… the few cameras she hadn’t really noted on in the lab, despite seeing… he had known _all_ this time.

“Starfleet has also passed the option of being able to turn humans; _willing_ humans that have been fully educated on their future-to-be and you’re their responsibilities of those you turn.” Lorca carried on, “But I suppose that’s more _general_ for vampires now, not specific you.”

“I do not want to turn _anyone_ , Captain.” Her tone dropped to an icy level.

“Burnham, if we want to _stop_ the suffering of that creature then turning a human could be our best option-”

“ _No_.” Her tone hardened.

Lorca held up his hand, “I know your held back on the whole matter, you didn’t have a choice to be turned. You suffered a lot with what that vampire did to you. But _this_ , this can be done efficiently, clinically and in a controlled environment. We know what we’re dealing with and we also have you.”

“This isn’t a simple yes-or-no question, Captain. It something that effects everyone. I can’t agree to it!” Her stance on the whole thing was made.

“I’m not asking for permission from _you_ , Burnham. It’s more of an FYI. I’ve gained the permissions from high enough to allow this for this ship.”

Michael’s jaw clenched but she could sense the lie in his words. Not just the fact there was a slight uptick in his heart rate. He didn’t get permissions for this. It wasn’t his place to decide such a high and personal decision.

“You’re lying, Captain.” She wasn’t afraid to call him out on it. “You _can’t_ make this decision.”

Lorca wasn’t abashed at being caught out but he shrugged, still retaining a calm demeanour. “Where is the logic in belaying the outcome? Sooner or later, the tardigrade will fail us. You haven’t found us a legal solution yet and I doubt you will in that time. War doesn’t allow us time to go through with details. People have to make decisions for the greater good.”

“I know what you’re trying to do, Captain but this… this isn’t something that can be rushed. I turned into a killer. I killed the doctor’s because they were _food_ to me. Even if I was to agree to assist, the human would have to know _what_ they were fully getting into and what they’d lose. Not just their humanity here. They’d have to try and stop themselves from _wanting_ to kill anything with a heartbeat.”

“I believe I have a few ideas of who would be an ideal candidate but I’m not an fool, Burnham. I did read up on your file after all. I know what I’m letting this crew into but I do believe there will be a benefit to this...for you.” He moved a step closer, exhaling deeper out. “What is it you’re so scared of?”

Michael’s eyes watched his face, her dark gaze almost burning into his. He was confident, his decision felt made and she felt a little wedged in the corner. He was using both logic and emotion against her. To persuade her.

The fact was, he had her venom—not a mistake she’d make again— he could pick anyone he wanted, who agreed that is and _use_ it. Leaving her to deal with the aftermath either way. She could easily calculate ways to remove it off his persons and crush it; but then the results wouldn’t bode well on her end. She’d earn a trip to the brig for sure but it was surely worth it. Why was he obsessing over the idea of _another_ one of her kind? It felt more than professional.

The worry for her was that, while Stamets had brought up the idea, he was interested in the science behind it and the fantasy of what it’d be like but with the restraint to not follow through. Here she had been worried on him… when she should have been more worried on Lorca. Another mistake she should have paid attention to.

While his question had merit, it was meant to gauge a reaction.

Lorca carried on. “Scared of the responsibility of another of your kind? Scared of sharing this ship with another? Scared that I’d _use_ this being once they’re turned?” He remained ever calm, feet away from her with a surprisingly soft expression. “But this _isn’t_ about you. I will assure you that…I won’t use a vampire as a weapon and it _will_ be a choice for them. Now, let me make this clear; I’m _not_ saying I’m gonna run down and inject it now. It’ll take a few days but I want you to help prep them.” His body gave no indication a lie in his speech, no up-beat of breath or a heartbeat; his skin stayed as flushed as it was nor his pupils expand. He wasn’t lying. Her eyes flickered down to his pocket where she could see the shape of the hypospray.

“We haven’t even tested to make sure it’s safe.” Michael argued softly, her lips pursed. How was he _able_ to wear her down?

Lorca nodded. “I know. But I have piggy-backed on your simulations to run my own and it all correlates to a working and successful….transformation.”

“Who are your potential subjects?”

At that, there was clear signs of hesitation though he simply picked up his PADD and held it out to her. “I’ve yet to talk to all them. So don’t… _don’t_ talk to them about this before I’ve broached the topic. That, Burnham is an _order_.”

Inhaling deeply, she nodded, “Yes, Sir.” But she had a gut feeling on the possibilities; from exposure to her and to the project; the circle of people was severely limited. The options; she didn’t like. She plucked the PADD from his hand but didn’t look at it just yet. “Is…is there anything else?”

Lorca looked around his office and shook his head. “No, you’re dismissed. Go to your quarters and read through the reports. You’ll take this as a personal day off to…process everything and get things in order.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Once in the turbo lift down, her fingers ran over the screen, closing her eyes softly as she saw the first two of the listed names

  * _Paul Stamets_
  * _Silvia Tilly_



“Damn it…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehe finally, turning of events, the story will pick up now so please, please drop a comment on which of the two you'd like to.. well turn. It's always been the plan that at least one of the two would but i'd like a second opinion and work from there.


	8. Turmoil

Michael sat on her bed, feeling the day trickle away until it was late evening, flickering though her PADD, her body otherwise stiff in her adjusted mood. For a few reasons. She knew why she was confided to quarters. With her room soundproofed, she shouldn’t hear out to know where Lorca was or what he could be staying to people… or to the list of people. How he’d _persuade_ them into such a life changing decision….

What she also couldn’t get around was Starfleet _allowing_ it. It was a stupid idea to allow her to have this choice. But the report was in front of her

 

_‘Due to rights of the individual and as a separate species. ‘Transformations’ have been deemed conditionally legal and under strict surveillance._

_Tests show the female vampire will not be able to physically carry an offspring. The crystalline nature of the body’s mass will not allow for growth or habitation of a foetus and the biology suggest the venom found in the former saliva glands of the vampire mouth are the only venomous substance that would initiate conversion over another human being. The female vampire still contains her original reproductive organs but no longer functional nor habitable for offspring._

_It remains unclear is males vampires still retain their reproductive abilities as no male subjects have been found.  It is the clear conclusion that to keep their species going; only conversion is their only ways of reproduction._

_Due to this, the vampire still holds right of reproduction but with humans involved, it had to be in tight conditions as listed below:_

  * _No non-humans are allowed to turn; vampire venom have proven to be lethal._
  * _No child under the age of 18 will be allowed to turn. Regardless of consenting guardians._
  * _Under no circumstanced should an non-willing human be turned_
  * _A Human in Starfleet that are turned are to undergo authorisation of a superior officer._
  * _All turnings must be documented and registered...’_



 

The list went on and it was broken up into a lot of sub chapters. It was a heavy read but it was such a controversial topic that it didn’t surprise her that the debate on still on about her. Being the only one in Starfleet, and the _only_ mutineer, it was a hard to discuss _what_ she _was_ to what she _did_ as separate incidences.

But they still made her feel like an idiot for giving her venom away to Stamets. There had only been so much _she_ could do while he could break it down further and run his tests much deeply. Her lesson was learned and she knew Stamets knew that too. They were _both_ idiots.

It pissed her off to find more on the reports:

_‘Additionally, vampires under the command of a Starship can still be subjected to a court martial on the event of an unauthorised turning, regardless of the human subject’s choice. But a Captain can also authorise the necessity of a turning on behalf of a human in conditional situations. This authorisation must be approved by a superior officer and the subject must be appropriately prepared…’_

It had taken everything not to break the PADD but it made logical sense to why Lorca really was jumping on the bandwagon _now_ ; allowing them to investigate the turning option without feeling compromised or forced. She could only assume now that Lorca wanted to jump more since they were still an operational ship; having a turned one on board meant a quick and efferent take-over from the Tardigrade.

It didn’t feel right. It felt rushed. She hadn’t been here that long…

Her head rose as the door opened and was immediately met with Tilly; her pulse racing and the anxiety filtered through her veins; her skin pale and she looked to be very worried.

“Are you okay?” Michael put down her PADD though Tilly nervously spared her a glance as she headed to her bed and began to kick off her shoes

“I’m fine.” Her tone was very short but her directed nature meant to Michael that Lorca had spoken to her at some point.

“Did Captain Lorca speak you?”

Tilly’s eyes shot up; giving Michael her answer straight away.

“What happened?”

The cadet's jaw clenched, sitting heavily on her bed before she let out a deep and shaky breath. “I think you already know…”

“He talked to you on the topic of…turning someone for the use of the spore drive. He confronted me about it too.”

Tilly’s face remained tightened in worry. “No one on the list is going to volunteer… at least; me and Stamets haven’t shot down the idea.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I don’t know…” Her voice trailed off but Michael moved after a second, at a slow pace to sit beside the human. Tilly didn’t move but she was staring down to her hands. “I’m scared that… Stamets will volunteer regardless of my answer… I thought I _liked_ the idea of being like you this morning but now… I don’t think I want to be like you but we can’t keep hurting the Tardigrade. If I say no, Stamets will no doubt say yes and even if I say Yes, there’s a chance he’d still volunteer _instead_ of me.”

Michael could see both those outcomes with the guy. While Stamets hadn’t shown a lot of affection, his still held the unconditional care of his crew’s welbeing that worked under his command. He’d see this as his responsibility. But that would drastically change his entire dynamic with everyone; including with Dr Culber… they’d _never_ have the same relationship… A vampire and human in a relationship; that was a recipe for a disaster. Even if Culber himself desired to turn too at any point in the future; his doctoring days would be over; too must temptation.

“How is he?”

“Freaked out. He’s been nervous all day…. Said Landry confiscated the Hypospray last night before Lorca talked to me. Apparently got into an argument with Dr Culber for having your venom to start with…”

“I only gave it for him to study more discretely. I shouldn’t have given him it…” This was a wishful thinking now. How else had he been able to discover the secondary DNA strand her venom had?

“You think?” The tone was much harsher than intended from Tilly but the woman sighed out and lent against her shoulder, her hand coming to wrap around her arm. Michael shifted to allow her grip.  “I don’t want him to turn. It _shouldn’t_ be allowed!”

“It’s…convenient timing. I’ve read the reports. Lorca is…entitled to allow it on _condition_ circumstances. I believe he was waiting on the reports before jumping the gun on us today.”

Tilly shook her head, her warm skin’s heat seeping through her uniform jacket and felt hot against her cool flesh. “It’s no fair…”

“We’re stuck between a rock and a hard place, Tilly…” It felt like an ultimatum now. The Tardigrade or a human’s humanity and life. She should have seen this coming with Lorca’s interest with what she was. There had to be some way around it….

What she was, they were by nature an ancient Species that evaded all human’s knowledge until recent; with her. Surely, on earth there must be some vampires that remained… surely a form of government to have policed them to hush away. Could they still be around? Old roots that could offer a lifeline out of such a human controlled environment?

But… if there was more of her kind, then they’d surely have to build their own system away from humans. They weren’t human and _shouldn’t_ be at the mercy of humans… Maybe making more of her kind had to be the way to build that for their kind?

“I’ll talk to Stamets tomorrow… This isn’t going to be easy for him.” She didn’t know how he’d react to such a thing. But she’d _definitely_ had to talk to him. Culber too.

 

* * *

 

When Night passed, Tilly’s sleep had been very light and unsettled and waking a few times to pee, or kick off the blanker or pick it up again. It concerned Michael when she sat reading through her species files on the updates too; the federation had been doing that they could to locate more of her kind on Earth but what had surprised her was the Vulcan’s interest too. She’d have to ask Sarek why when she next saw him.

Tilly rose early for their morning exercised but her quietness continued and despite Airiam’s attempts to engage Tilly in conversation, the Cadet still remained unusually quiet; not unnoticed by the others either as they prepared for their shift.

At Engineering, Michael found Stamets hunched over his PADD as she took the lead in, the atmosphere tense and like Tilly, Stamets’s anxiety was easy to tell despite not displaying it so easily. Through the loop in his arm, Michael spied what he was reading, sighing deeply though to catch his attention; it worked.

Stamets sat up suddenly, almost dropping the PADD. “Oh, Hello…Burnham, Tilly.” He greeted quickly.

“I know Lorca’s talked to you by now.” Michael started, going to the point; he wouldn’t take too well dodging the question.  “Are you okay?”

Stamets blanked for a moment, staring at her for a moment before a flush of blood spread through his cheeks rapidly and his body kicked back into life. “Am I okay?” he echoed her question, “Am I okay? Let’s see… our hypothetical idea of turning someone for the sake of science, that I had only wanted to stay hypothetical may now become a reality and now I’m in the spot light to be the one to take that position because as chief engineer of the spore drive; it’s my duty to. Apparently.” He started off, his mood shifting to frustration. “I enjoyed the idea, I loved the fantasy. Vampires had been romanced about for centuries and you get intrusive thoughts but the reality is… _. It’s fucking terrifying_!” He angrily spun around and kicked the console and was immediately met with pain, swearing again and hopping around.

Michael didn’t flinch, Tilly did.

“How is this even legal?!” He grumbled out, jumping into his seat, flexing out his foot. “One of you is enough. Lorca is nuts!” He pointed an accusation finger at Michael but she nodded, allowing him to vent out what he couldn’t to Lorca. “I know it’s gonna be me, Michael…” Stamets looked away, his hands coming to his face. Michael knew he was far too stubborn to cry or choke up but… she could just see he was exhausted.

“Can’t we just inject you with the tardigrade DNA and leave the whole venom out of it?” Tilly suggested. “Screw law and eugenics? Beat Lorca at his own gain”

Stamets’s hand dropped a moment but his face was less than impressed. “Wow, what a wonderful suggestion that I didn’t think of before.” His voice was thick was sarcasm.

“He confiscated the other Hypospray of Tardigrade DNA too?” Tilly didn’t take his sarcasm to heart

“He is determined and this is a horrifying nightmare that I wanted to avoid.”

“My apologies, Lieutenant.” Michael loosened her stance, despite the feeling of stress at the situation. “Why don’t you turn the whole idea down? Both of you. He can’t legally exploit the route with the lack of consent.”

Stamets gave her a look, “unless he decides to inject _himself_ , Burnham. I know you’ve only known him for over a week; he’s willing to push buttons and boundaries for the end result. He won’t turn himself without the other options taken away. He’s commandeered my spore drive for his war instead of science. He doesn’t care for the means. Do you think you’re here just as a brain for the ship?”

“No.” She was not a fool. Lorca’s attitude… it had been in question since she had met. He was persuasive and certainly knew how to play his cards. He had said it himself he wasn’t going to weaponised her kind, yet… there was a lot of grey areas he was exploiting for sure. She should have been more specific. Stamets held logic to his worry too and she knew not to put it Past Lorca to pull that stunt to get the

Stamets began to pace, an unusual gesture from him, combined with an increased pulse. Michael’s eyes followed his movement for a moment before moving to a station. While she could stand there all day and another week, she needed to be more productive.

“I should really blame you for this, Burnham. I really _should_.” Stamets muttered, “You told me to drop it and walk away but no… I kept the idea going and look where it’s got me; one foot in the grave.”

Her eyes flickered up to his face. “While I know you’re talking out of Anxiety; something you’ve picked up from Tilly in the last 24 hours, we still need to… get back to work.”

“Did you find anymore suitable life forms?”

Michael shook her head. “No. but given how it’s looking, what’s going to happen will happen… I’m sorry, Lieutenant.”

Stamets’s jaw clenched and his arms folded but he didn’t miss a step.

“Lorca informed me, I have to be responsible of the turned one, so I also have to prepare them. Psychologically particularly. But I will need to work with…Culber on something.”

“I…I don’t want to involve him, Burnham. He’s mad at me enough that I had the venom without telling him; more so since it’s taken away from me and he’s probably already guessing what Lorca plans to do with it so… No.”

“Once you turn, Stamets, despite you having the DNA, the needles need to gain some access to your nervous system. You’ll need an augment implant _before_ you’re turned.”

“I can’t believe it, you’re jumping on the bandwagon with him!”

Michael let out a redundant sigh, mostly of aspiration. “I am not. I don’t want you to turn. It’s a stupid idea and we have no choice in the matter. But this, this is important to discuss. Unless another time?”

His face said as much.

 _“Really, Captain, you think this is a good idea_ ” Saru’s voice picked up her attention as Michael turned _back to her station._

_“We’ve been idol for too long. It’s about time to pull our part in the war. Stamets need to prep the spore drive.”_

_“That’s not what I’m talking about, Captain. I read the report you drafted up for the Admiral. Do you think she’ll agree to this?”_

_“Right now, that’s the least of my concerns. Get the teams prepped and the ship ready to jump.” Both Lorca’s steps and clomps of Saru’s shoes departed from another._

Michael jaw flexed a moment, returning her focus back to engineering, the doors opening and more crew members filing in for their morning shift.

 

* * *

 

The whole shift had been uncomfortable, from the jumps and defeating the Klingon at  Benzar and dismantling the supply line but the victory didn’t touch any of their group. The whining of the Tardigrade pierced into her chest a little more as it energised away back to the pen. One that also tugged at the other two from their physical reactions. Tilly had been quick to leave and Michael wanted to follow her but she stayed with Stamets. She had to.

“How are you so calm?” Stamets’s mood had quietened down, escorting him to the mess for their lunch. He was less angry now, more solemn.

“Emotions are…. Less intensified.” Michael admitted. “I feel anxious but it doesn’t translate the same physical reactions.”

“But you feel for the creature.”

Michael nodded. “I do.”

When they reached the Mess, it was busy with celebration but there was a spare seat which he took, she stood opposite but he continued to mull over in silence as he ate.

 _“what’s wrong with Tilly? She’s been so quiet today?”_ this was the hushed voiceover Detmer as she entered the mess and went for the synthesizer with Bryce.

_“Bad news?”_

_“Usually she’d tell us what that is but… something else. I think I might have to do with Burnham…”_

Michal kept her gaze down to the table, fixing a board expression before their eyes turned to her, feeling the heat of their gaze.

_“Maybe. They haven’t been around as often, they’re usually sewn at the hip since she joined.”_

_“Or maybe Burnham almost attacked her and she’s terrified. I wouldn’t put it past her.” Distain leaked into Detmer’s voice._

_“Kayla...”_

_“She attacked Landry… and before that, on our old ship, our captain. Georgiou.”_

Michael pulled away from listening into the conversation but it made her feel sad… Detmer really thought that low of her? Her body stiffened up but without a word, left Stamets at his table.

Darting this time at full speed until she found herself standing in the ships brig. It was very similar to the Shenzhou’s. Empty of course and the containment fields were down. But like some of the rooms, this too had been soundproofed against her hearing. Allowing blissful silence to resonate with the sounds of the impulse engines. Was it the familiar of prison with the emotional turmoil she was feeling… the guilt on the war, knowing what Lorca was making her do… she should have stayed in prison. She should have turned him down…. This ship shouldn’t fly on the expense of the Tardigrade—her fault— and certainly not on the expense of Stamets’s humanity.

Maybe Landry was right. She needed to be on the other side of the pen, to stop making things worse. Was she scared of the humans? No. By a vampire stand point, humans were very weak against their physiology. Breakable without meaning to be. Yet, the numbers were overwhelming. She was only one. Yet, sooner or later, even if she needed up in prison or stayed or if the war was lost; she’d find a way out. But she’d outlive them all.

Company, her own _kind_ of company… the idea appealed. Stamets, not the most conventional company would no doubt serve the emotional necessity of it but nothing more if he was to go through but he’d suffer more if he turned. His marriage to Culber, his job would change…. How could Starfleet hold _this_ to their principles? Or was it all Lorca? Pushing the boundaries when all said no?

Michael could find the irony in that. Her own stance of disregarding Starfleet that had even started this war… ignoring Philippa’s words, manipulating her closer just to attack her; to get her way? Hope to have changed to a degree had settled within her, but this… this would tear down the foundations of her new principles… but she has no choice. How was she better than before?

“Computer.” She spoke.

“Working.”

“Locate Commander Saru.”

“Commander Saru is located within his quarters.”

Michael pursed her lips, debating for a second before she darted away towards the turbo lifts. It took longer than she’d have liked to get to the right deck. But the vast scent of moss and plants became clear to his location. A familiar scent that had always lingered on the Kelpien. On the Shenzhou, it was less obvious but then, she wasn’t trying to smell him.

Her eyes ran over the doors though she followed her nose until she reached the door with the most potent smell of plans, pollen and… Saru’s scent.  It was silent but she could tell it was also sound proofed. She inhaled softly, reaching for the door to request entry but the door opened before her fingers touched the button.

Saru stood on the other side, ganglia extended. “Burnham.” He greeted, a stiff edge on his tone.

“Commander.” She greeted carefully. “Can I have a word?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, the chaps have slowed in plot atm but I'm hoping to speed that up when i get around to it. Please drop come comments, I'd still love to hear your thoughts


	9. Turning Point

It had been days had passed since Lorca had spoken to them. The Discovery had ran a few more missions using the spore drive with success and some celebration for the human crew but Michael found it hard to be in the same room as they jumped; the sounds the tardigrade made rang in her brain and she had seen how both Tilly and Stamets reacted now they were attuned to its reactions. They didn’t like it.

Stamets had made his decision to turn after that.

Guilt had weighed in her stomach as she sat with Stamets. Tilly was elsewhere and the silence between then was loud. She could feel Stamets’s anxiety and apprehension and turmoil of fear. Healthy responses to his situation, something she’d be a lot more worried about if he wasn’t reaction to such a life changing decision.

He and Culber had had a huge argument that she had heard when Culber had found out about Stamets’s decision to turn. _In the middle of Engineering, during their shift._ Stamets hadn’t felt the confidence to face him since and Michael allowed Stamets to vent at her before getting him to a unused room to sleep in; he had doubts Hugh had wanted to see him and Michael knew Culber was mad at her too.  

_“This isn’t something you can just do and be fine, Paul!” Culber spoke, his tone harder than she had ever heard him speak as he stormed into the Lab, a hush falling over the stations as the doctor headed directly to his husband._

_“Hugh…” Stamets moved around this station, his face already pale from his emotions, seem to blanch further. “I know but-“_

_“You should have said no, Paul. No.”_

_“It’s not that simple.”_

_“It is. You shouldn’t sacrifice yourself, your humanity or anything **more** for Captain Lorca.” _

_A few people scurried from the lab as they got louder, the two seemingly forgetting where they were but it seemed to matter little. Michael swallowed thickly and she could hear the fast breathing and pulses of their hearts, fuelled by their emotions that trained their scents around them as they got a little hotter._

_“I can’t stand by… this is something I have to do. I don’t like it and I certainly don’t agree to it”_

_“Then don’t go through with it… I don’t want to lose you, Paul. You’re far too important for me to just throw your life away.”_

_Stamets moved quickly forwards, grabbing his arm lightly, his face painterly strained. “You won’t lose me, Hugh. I’ll just be…different.”_

_Culber shook his head. “Different? With a fresh homicidal blood-lust, a body made of crystalline… You won’t be_ alive _, Paul.. not the way you should be..” His tone quietened but Michael felt the sting to what he was saying. Intentionally or not, he considered turning a death sentence; not worth living. Michael tried not to take that personally; Culber was angry…. But did he_ really _mean that?_

_Stamets’s jaw clenched. “I’m sorry.”_

_Culber shook his head, his body just as tense as Stamets. “You shouldn’t have made this decision without me, Paul. I am your husband.”_

_“It was either me or Tilly. I’m not gonna let it be her. I don’t think I could live with myself if Tilly had to go through with it… she has a lot of potential and a bright future as—“_

_“What about **our** future, Paul, **ours**?” Culber echoed. “You should have told me… at least then we could have talked about this. Why did I have to find out through Dr Pollard that you accepted? The man I married… the man I married wouldn’t throw himself into this without consulting me, what I think or what I could do to help. I want what’s best for you. Yes, but I had every right here, as your husband—not doctor—to disagree with this change. It’s not just effecting you, Paul. You won’t sleep beside me at night, you won’t be warm or share meals with me…not that—” There was a moment of hesitation, as if to desire to remark on the last statement further but stopped himself._

_Michael found herself leaving at that point, she didn’t want to hear any more._

Stamets hadn’t spoken a lot since then and seemed to be actively avoiding to speak unless spoken to and doing everything in his power to avoid every one. But Michael had to do her duty and started to prepare him. Starting with their current location. The unused quarters.

It was stripped down to bare basic furniture now; a bed and table, a new blood replicator had just been installed and new shielding on all walls, floor and ceiling. The venting system was being adjusted so no recycled air, carrying old scents would circulate elsewhere and the entire room sound proofed. Modified to her specification to the necessity of what a newly turned needed. Temptation at it’s lowest and it was quite odd to sit in such a cut off room. Not to mention, the room was far from any other lived in quarters which was on purpose; no one would accidently walk in.

Stamets sat at the end of the bed while she stood a few meters away, staring out the window to the dark beauty of space, stars and chemicals.

 Yet he still didn’t speak and it did worry her.

“You’re worried.” Michael prompted after a second, her eyes following the movements of meteor debris that floated unconcerned passed. “Please talk to me. I’d like to know what you’re thinking.”

Stamets didn’t react but his blue eyes lifted a fraction, saying nothing. Michael turned her gaze to him fully, tilting her head a moment before she darted over and gently sat beside him.

“It’s…tomorrow. Correct?”

Stamets gave a short nod. “I’ve read though the entire species file; the official one Starfleet had, not the one you written up. I know what to expect, Burnham.”

Michael hummed, with some disagreement. “Reading only goes so far, Lieutenant. Expectations can very.”

“Then I’m all ears,” His tone held an edge of a grumpy sneer in his discomfort.

“I know you’re worried on the emotional issues that’ll come after. Especially with Hugh.” Using Culber’s first name basis in the delicate nature. “You’ll need to talk to him before. Not after.”

“He doesn’t want to see me. Burnham.”

“He will. He doesn’t seem like the type to leave things on a slammed door.”

“You heard our fight. He doesn’t want me after I turn.” Stamets swallowed thickly, his hands balling it and he shifted beside her before flopping back

Michael gave him a soft look, feeling a little surprised he had made such a conclusion within the last 20 hours of his argument. She had heard no such a statement to imply Culber’s desire to split. “How did you reach _that_ conclusion?”

“Why are we talking about my feelings, Burnham? You’re supposed to prepare me and this talk isn’t helping.” Stamets’s attempts to change topic as he sat up again

“I beg to differ. Despite my calm demeanour, do you really think I was always like this?”

“If I’m honest, I have no idea what you went through to start with. I know you were _very_ aggressive. It paints a picture of _my_ future.”

Michael nodded, mildly agreeing to that statement. She had been. “I never had the dubious choice here, Stamets. I know…what happened from the medical reports. My memory of my…turning is vague. I suffered a lot of injuries, especially to my head. I was not expected to survive.” An ugly truth she had come to grips with. “I know the vampire that turned me had a grudge and intended to torture me to death.”

She felt his sharp look of surprise, his focus shifting away from himself. “You were _tortured_?”

Michael nodded. “It is a mercy I have little memory of it. But my aggression when I woke… was in the thirst response and to the trace memories of what was done to me. Emotions matter…situation matters.”

Stamets’s gaze stayed to her face though she didn’t look at him. “What…what do _you_ remember?”

His question was not too surprising. She hadn’t revealed this about herself, not to Tilly or Airiam but… she supposed she owed Stamets her story if he was going to be like her, even if she didn’t like exposing that about herself.

Michael inhaled softly, her posture remaining stiff. “Prison life… it’s a hard adjustment but it is a structured life. You’re given jobs to do, meals at certain times and strict cell times. Given I wasn’t… _liked_ I was given protected custody. My cell was alone, others shared.” She did remember plenty of time before her turning of her prison time, the people she mingled with, and the ones that no doubt wanted to kill her. “It happened… three weeks into my prison sentence. I think it was evening. Day and night guards were switching over. Cells were being locked up for the night… then one of the guards came in before my cell was locked to high priority.”

“Wait, a _guard_?”

“Impostor. Female, I think she was a red-head… or strawberry-blonde. It was in a hat; hard to tell.” But it was a small mercy to her mind knowing it was a female. She didn’t know what else would have happened to her if it had been a male… she knew the implication of thought led down to a dark avenue she didn’t like to consider but she knew she had been found fully clothed. “She was angry. Things after she grabbed me are hard to recall… she broke my bones, ribs, my spine in a few places…fractured my skull...”

She could remember feeling  some of it… feeling the dull aches of the pain through her body, not able to move; then feeling the boot against her lower back then the heavy pressure put down… then the _crack_ ; hearing it before feeling it; the pain in her broken legs and pelvis just _gone_. “She took her time. At least…30 minutes from the reports. It felt like forever. I know I passed out a couple of times… Eventually she bit me, to feed from me too…” Michael tilted her head, her hand coming to her neck, tracing along an unscarred second of her skin. “She wanted me to die in agony but… the systems alarms went then they found the real guard. Dead. She had to get out.”

“She escaped?” Stamets’s voice was hushed and his gaze was soft but she was grateful that there was no hint of pity. She didn’t like that.

Michael nodded. “We don’t… count as life signs on sensors. By the time they realised that… she had gone from the Starbase. I suspect she used that to her advantage to even get in the base. Others were found dead and hidden while I was still in the transformation process.”

Stamets nodded softly but looked away to his hands. “I’m… I’m sorry that happened to you.” He rose to his feet, pacing around after a moment around the rest of the quarters. Michael said nothing. What could she say to that?

“The way you’ll turn… it’s different. I don’t expect you to be as aggressive like me but you will have an incredible thirst. Now, we’re in a controlled environment; the replicator will make you all the supplements you’ll need and I know what to expect. Your impulses are going to be different.” Michael spoke, careful to draw away from herself to more to him again. “But you will have no control, so I want to run a brief reference test for you so you, on a rational mind, knows what to expect and how to deal with it.”

Stamets eyed her for a moment though nodded softly. “I suppose all the help I can get.”

 

* * *

 

Michael’s ran a few tests with Stamets over the hour, involving Peppered sweets and a relieving drink to simulate the fraction of the feeling of thirst and waiting out the time between the growing ‘burning’ sensations to him having the drink (to represent the blood). She had left him to carry on on his own as she was called to sickbay.

She took her time this time, just faster than a human pace but she could hear Lorca’s voice and Dr Pollards talking long before she entered the sickbay, her breath held as she felt the tickle in her throat from the sweet undertones that remained. She didn’t want to be here… so close to temptations.

“Burnham.” Lorca greeted as soon as the doors opened to reveal a spotless and white medical room with three bio beds and one occupied with a sleeping Andorian with their limb being treated by Dr Culber behind a containment field. His presence didn’t seem so accidental but he also seemed to be unusually devoted to the machines than to look her entry as the others did.

“Captain Lorca.” Michael greeted, her eyes flickering to Dr Pollard, Lorca and Saru who hovered beside a monitor and a bio bed that had a box on it. “Do you really think this place is appropriate for me?” Her red gaze flickering to Lorca specifically and arched her eyebrow.  

“Your control has improved greatly since your arrival.” Lorca mused though he looked to Dr Pollard who opened.

“I’d rather not push it.”

Lorca didn’t answer but his attitude didn’t change; an indication he wanted to get to topic than discuss her discomforts. On the bed, he opened up the box, revealing the hypospray of her modified venom and two other cartilages. She could smell the chemicals easily though had no reference to know what they were.

“”What are these?”

“Pain killer and a paralytic.” Dr Pollard spoke, her arms folded and she seemed displeased too so Michael could also assume she had been roped into this. “Captain Lorca thinks injecting these prior to the… other one would be more ideal for the subject.”

Michael shook her head. “Pain killer is worthless. Venom will easily eat through its chemical compound within minutes.” She argued. “Paralytics… I suppose you’d have to wait and see but I don’t think a hypospray is the ideal way to administer the venom.”

“Why not?” Pollard’s head tilted with mild curiosity.

“Not deep enough. It needs to be injected into the heart to spread faster and cut down the change time. If you do use a hypospray, then it’s only skin deep to an artery and the spread will be slow until it reaches the heart. If it was just the Tardigrade DNA then it’d be almost instantly but… it’s two very different things.”

Dr Pollard nodded, understanding what she meant. “I can look into a modified hypospray needle.”

“Thank you.” Michael nodded, letting Pollard close the case and head away to collect what she needed. Her eyes following her figure. “Now, this is going to be a frist for me, not for you lot but I will need to stay with him. No human contact until I say otherwise.”

Captain Lorca nodded. “I can agree to that. Makes logical sense.”

Michael’s gaze returned to Lorca with a frown. “Do not expect things to go…smoothly. I am not a qualified teacher for this…experiment of yours. Captain.”

“No, but you’re our _only_ one for this. I’ll seal and secure the area in a containment field until otherwise stated. I expect updates.”

Michael nodded once. “I understand that. The room is prepared, as requested but I think He should talk to Dr Culber.” Her head turned to the doctor in questioned who paused in his adjustments, his jaw flexing.

“I heard they had an argument, how is Stamets taking it?” Lorca’s voice was louder than their previous conversation, indicating to her clearly it was purposely meant for Culber.

Her eyes narrowed as it flared mild irritation though her body. He was trying to manipulate Culber now, guilt him into talking to him.

“He’s… keeping himself distracted. I have also encouraged him to talk to Dr Culber prior.” Michael was purposeful to not impose an implication on Stamets’s emotional well-being. “Everyone involved is aware of the date and time so there is _plenty_ of time for them to talk.”

Lorca snorted softly, shaking his head. “Hm, there is another thing.” Completely changing the topic, the captain pulled a secondary case that had been on the bio bed and opened it up. “Dr Pollard can install these for Stamets to interface with the equipment. They’ll tap into his nervous system”

Inside were two white metallic pads, about three inches long and looked to have some sort of retractable ports, one was currently exposed to expose to show that function. She could see perfectly logical sense; she supposed the whole thing would be useless if they couldn’t past him into the equipment post-change. His body would no doubt adjust to having it as well.. but she was already aware of this having had this conversation with Tilly on the interfacing. 

“Actually, Dr Culber made them.” Dr Pollard spoke up, returning with a new Hypospray and a new needle end. “I’d recommend that… he should install them himself since he’s more familiar with the technology.”

Behind her, Michael heard the pause in Culber’s steps and his glance too but the muscle tensions in his face suggested he was not pleased at being brought into it at all.

Lorca even spared a look to the Doctor with doubt. “Then he can assist you. I’d rather not compromise medical protocol when bias opinions are involved.”

“Medical protocol, sir?” Culber spoke up, turning to face them fully. Lorca turned with a tense jaw, lazily watching Culber as if expecting to be met with argument. Michael assumed he expected it. “With what you want to do to Paul… that goes _against_ medical procedure.”

“Then— pray tell— did you even make the augments to start with if you didn’t want to get involved.”

Culber stayed quiet for a moment. “I didn’t want him to lose his humanity for nothing, _sir_.”

The tensions felt to rise a little so Dr Pollard collected the boxes together. “I think I’ll take these to Stamets’s new room. Save us the trouble tomorrow…” She muttered, “But if I hear arguing, I will have you kicked out. Culber’s patient needs his rest.”

Lorca and Culber continued to knock horns, so to speak but Michael stayed simply because she also wanted to talk to Culber.

Lorca inhaled deeply, his body heat levelled and ready evenly with Culber’s opposition.

“There are many lives at stake, Dr Culber. I know you disagree with our methods but Stamets had agreed to this. With him new physiology, he can’t ware down like the Tardigrade and it will benefit the war efforts.”

“The end doesn’t justify the means, sir.”

“You’d rather let the tardigrade suffer and die?”

Culber’s arms crossed over his chest, a flash of angry heat saturating his body “No. But this shouldn’t cost a human life at all.”

“He’s not dying.”

“You don’t know the full extent of vampirism. I’ve done my study of Burnham to know what he’ll endure physically and psychologically. It changes you on even a personality level.”

“ _Actually_ , Culber.” Micheal interested, the attention swinging to her. “My personality remains the same. My _reactions_ to my environment _does_.”

“So what, Michael.” Culber’s attention changing. “I don’t mean offence but I don’t want him to be _like_ you.”

“Neither do I. I know the risks. I also know you care too much to push him away. He needs you, as his husband as a support. You don’t have to agree but he needs to know that you’ll still love him. He’s terrified you’ll leave him”

Culber blanched after a moment then shook his head with distracted surprise. “That’s not what I meant! I am angry at this!”

“By all means be angry but Paul needs you now, before it’s too late so he can go through with it with emotional comfort.” Michael stepped forwards, careful to place her hand on his lower arm. “Argue, fight. I don’t care but he still needs to know you won’t give up on him.”

Culber sighed deeply, raising his hands to his face. “It’s hard.”

“I know, but it’s much harder on him, you know.”

Culber’s anger dissolved after a moment. “I know…” He muttered quietly. “Excuse me.”

Michael’s eyes followed as he turned and headed away and for a second she thought he’d head to the turbo lift but his steps echoed down a different corridor… to his office. No doubt to think. Him going straight there… it was a hopeful idea but she suppose she had calmed him into thinking about it differently. After all, he still had time to see him.

After a moment, Lorca let out a soft burst of breath. “Well done, Burnham.”

Michael’s gaze narrowed before she looked to Captain Lorca but she put the math easily that immediately infuriated her, her body tensing up automatically. Lorca had planned this for her and Culber. Of course she hadn’t put it passed him but it really didn’t make her feel good on the fact.

“Please stop manipulating me and Paul, Sir.”

“You’re amending the situation. We need Stamets at his best and Culber still cares. You’re friends with them both so… I’m making use of what I have.”

“Even at the cost.” It rubbed her in the wrong way. Like they were violating Starfleet’s principles. Maybe they were, maybe she had learned her lesson to know not to do that again and here she was; kicking it down again.

“Some costs are worth it. Something tells me that Stamets’s… new life will be easier and quicker in your guidance.”

“Until he kills half the crew. Sir.”

“Have faith. I certainly do.”

 

* * *

 

Dr Culber wanted to stay mad. He wanted to be furious and he certainly didn’t want Paul anywhere near Lorca and his scheming. He wasn’t stupid and he knew that Paul’s decision wasn't his own. He didn’t expect anything less and that bothered him.

He didn’t want Paul to be afraid that he’d lose him. No. but he had needed his time to get his mind around the fact that his husband… his husband was going to endure pure hell for Lorca. He didn’t want that for him; to watch helpless as he withered in pain. He had seen the videos of Michael in the prison sickbay;  it had been watching a horror film.

Still at first but as her body healed up; her bones cracking loudly as she was forcedly put back together by the venom. But her scream when her T7 repaired, the nerve endings suddenly being filtered suddenly into her brain at once; it had gotten _worse_. Fighting her restraints… the helplessness of just watching as the Doctors tried to stop it…

Hugh didn’t want that for Paul. He didn’t want to watch him in pain. But… Michael was right. He had to talk to Paul before the procedure. Had to show he cared because what was who he was.

Nerves filled his veins as he hovered outside the door. But he pressed his fingers to the button then a few second later the door opened.

The room was very bare and impersonal but his eyes went straight to Paul who was sitting at the desk, a tall cup of milk in front of him and a back of orange sweets and he could see the heavy flush in his cheeks and the tense posture to know that Paul was in discomfort… he should have brought his med kit.

“Paul, are you all right?”

This startled Paul straight onto his feet, his eyes widening and looked almost like he was caught doing something he shouldn’t.

“H-ugh?!” Paul’s voice broke with a cough at the end but he was obviously distracted. Hugh moving in, concern filtering to what he was seeing.

“What happened?” Hugh asked. “I should have brought my med kit—maybe Tracy—“

“It’s fine!” Paul stepped forwards and reached for the glass and gulped it down but it seemed to do something. “It’s fine. I’m fine.!”

Hugh eyed him for a moment, but the flush seemed to do down. Milk? Paul was not a milk-lover.

“Michael’s…training techniques are… interesting.” As if that explained everything.

“Training Techniques?”

Paul nodded, his posture still tense as he down the milk to empty and placed the glass down. But Hugh could put two and two together. Peppered sweets. A simulation of what… thirst was and what was to relieve it. Hugh could see the logic but it twisted the sense of unease.

“Are you okay?” Hugh moved closer, but Paul’s gaze didn’t leave the table and his arms moved to fold over his chest.

“I’m fine.”

His tone suggested otherwise and he knew him to well.

“I’m not going to leave you if you turn, Paul.” Hugh blurted out. To the point. No point in going around it any longer.

Paul’s head shot up with a mild look of bemusement before it was masked behind a pursed expression. “You said enough yesterday.”

Hugh nodded. “But I’m not leaving you. We’re married. I love you. That’s not going to change but I have the right to be pissed off at you. To be angry. At you? Maybe. At Michael? Maybe. Lorca? Definitely.”

“Don’t… Don’t blame Michael for this. I asked her to give me her venom to study.”

“Hm, I heard this version of our argument yesterday too. Let’s not back track to that. I don’t want to fight you about it. It’s obvious on the outcome and… I don’t want to lose you.” Hugh inhaled softly, his fingers coming to open up his uniform and to sit down. “You want to do what’s right, even if the….choice is life-altering in a whole new level that I never thought would happen….”

Paul snorted but remained quiet. Hugh reached over, his hand coming to Paul which immediately curled tightly around, slightly cold from the glass but he couldn’t mistake the sweat and the slight shake in them; betraying how nervous his husband really was… it made his chest ache a little for putting him through it alone… how could he have thought about _missing_ this?

“I… don’t know what to say, Hugh..”

Hugh smiled softly, allowing himself to settle back and pulled Paul back with him to relax. “I do.” HE started, sparing a look around. “You’ll need to decorate…” He teased.

A ghost of a smile flickering over his husbands face but Paul seemed to relax more.

“Sorry for taking our room yesterday and being a dick about this.”

Paul nodded with a deep exhale, “and I’m sorry for making this decision on my own.”

“I understand your reasons, Paul. But next time, please for the love of sanity; let me know.”

The smile lingered more as it was expressed and Paul nodded his head. “I really hope I try not to kill you…”

Hugh lent towards him, pulling him into a kiss, feeling him smile against them.

 

* * *

 

Michael stood quietly in the room. The whole ship felt quiet. Tense even but everyone seemed to know what was going to happen. It had been a relief to hear Culber and Stamets had made up but for the former’s safety and sanity, he had been removed from duty for the next couple of days but not allowed to go near the room. No human had been allowed since Lorca ordered everyone away.

Paul had been prepped enough psychologically with her small tasks and Culber had fitted the augments into Paul’s arms. He was standing by the window, his heart racing a mile a minute and the anxiety was very strong; his hands shook and breathing alleviated. She knew he wanted Culber with him and his nerves was a good response to anticipation. Stamets had stayed mostly dressed in his uniform his blue jacket was slung around a chair.

His bed had been changed for a bio bed to monitor his vitals; she knew that it was being transferred into Sickbay too. On it was also an estimation of when it’d be complete and a stopwatch that’d track how long it’d actually be. The Bio bed would also track his body changes too so she hoped he didn’t break it.

Michael kept her steps quiet in her approach behind him and then jabbed the first injection into his neck, surprising him softly and she easily caught his swaying form, his weight nothing before the paralytic fully kicked in. It took a second to carry and place him onto the bed.

“First injection is in.” She called out for the record, dropping it down onto the tray beside the bed and she gently closed Paul’s open eyes. For the better. She could smell how the drug flowed into his veins. Colouring his scent with a sharper hint. But she could still feel his nerves but the woozy effects of the drugs would take the edge off to start with. She switched out the hypospray nozzle and cartridge, eyeing the long needle at the end for a moment and inhaled deeply.

“Now. Paul. I’m going to inject the second one. You shouldn’t feel it enter or exit but I know you’ll feel it spread. The effects of the drug will fade out your system so you might not keep still but I’ll stay by your side and get you whatever you need.” She spoke, to Stamets, going first name basis to offer some comfort as she steadied the hypro-spray over his chest, directly to his heart and to a good angle that would do the least damage and good access without damaging a lung or other artery.

After a moment, she wanted to see if someone would try and stop this; the thought was there and she no doubt knew if Tilly had the chance, she’d be running in red faced…. With that, she was quick and efficient to press the needle down, injecting the altered-venom into his heart and withdrawing it a second later, running a small white cloth over the injection mark for blood residue that immediately lulled at her but she tossed both hypospray and cloth into the bucket of bleach….

Paul’s heart beat started to pick up... indicating the spread had started…….

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehe now we've reached more Divergent! Yay and I do think having another Vamp would be a more interesting dynamic for the ship. Things change and I'm looking forwards to see how things work out for the ship. I know the plot has slowed down but i felt things needed to get more personal with each other than breeze passed it.


	10. Admiral Cornwell

Michael hovered beside Paul as he lay there on the bio bed, her senses out as she awaiting the last remaining few minutes of the change. As expected, it had been much quicker with the direct injection but it wasn’t until 6 hours after the injection that the paralytic had worn off and broke through Stamets’s calm demeanour. That had been the worst part; hearing him scream out, in pain, telling her to make it stop.... It made her stomach feel colder than her skin; being helpless to do more. That had went on for hours before she pulled the rubber top off a replicated blood-bottle, draining the content herself to quench her own thirst but it offered him something to bite into, muffling his screams down. He had bitten through that hours ago now.

Now his breaths heavily laboured, and he had stopped struggling but had a very tense grip on the restraints. Pain was natural, screams was natural, wanting it to _stop_ natural but she hated it… hating being the one to have a hand in _doing_ this to him. There was no safe-word in the transformation and no back-out… The guilt weighed in her chest but she pushed the feelings aside as she waited.

Steadily though she began to notice his heart beat shift, not the sound coming from the monitors but it began to pick up rapidly. Her attention shifting to listen closer, leaning forwards over him more. His heart had picked up faster, turning rapid as Paul shifted on the bio bed. The only indication to her that this was it, the last stages and she didn’t envy the feeling; the pain was rereading back into the heart where it’d feel much hotter, impossibly hotter.

Paul whined out in his chest, his breathing picking up.

“It’s okay, Paul. It’s almost over.” Michael called, hoping to assure him, her hand coming to his shoulder to draw his focus on the pressure, her worried gaze on his face as his expression screwed up further.

Then his heart became frantic, his back arching in response to the new sense of pain and pace, like a humming bird trying to escape a cage for a mere few minutes before the beats began to become erratic and amiss, the rate declining just as quickly in response.

_Thump. Thump. Thump… thump thump thump…… thump…..thump… thump……thump…………..thump_

Then with a weak and hollow beat, Paul’s heart stopped and the room was quiet apart from the monitor’s continuous flat line beep that buzzed throughout the quiet room.

Her breath was held, her hand squeezing his shoulder softly… watching his face for anything. Under her fingers, she could feel the hardness of his form to know there was little to no complications… what of his mind? Michael didn’t know. How did she handle him?

His eyes flickered open.

The moment of time became irrelevant. His eyes were red to expectation. A bright, brilliant red like hers had been, untainted by one else’s blood but her own that lingered in her tissues. But the emotions within his eyes flickered within a few factions of a second; confusion then _hostility_.

Almost immediately his body reacted, his hand darting out and grasped her neck sharply with an inhuman growl; baring his fangs and pulling free of the restraints as if they were no longer there

Michael’s instinct kicked in immediately, growling back with extended fangs as she slipped from his grip and shot away, immediately pursued around the small room but she _felt_ this was an instinctual reaction on his part, no doubt triggered by her proximity and driven by the burning thirst. A hunting instinct that she too shared that offered a mild thrill to even their chase.

She easily dodged him as he tried to tackle her, jumping over the furniture and used her momentum and speed to run up the side of the quarter’s wall and drop onto his back, looped an arm around his neck, locking him in against her while her other hand gripped at his temple, with a real temptation to twist and break his head from his body… but she fought the urge. Almost immediately, Paul tried to shake her off, his hands digging and tearing into her uniform sleeves and into her stone skin, hissing and growling but she looped her legs around him which locked her into place. He couldn’t shake her off now.

“Calm!” She growled into his ear, tightening her arm around his neck that’d surely hurt. His fingers certainly did but she didn’t budge. He growled still, the echo of it rumbling in his chest but Michael could tell she had the upper hand.

But this felt _more_ than just a hostile reaction… it felt like a challenge. Perhaps _for-filling_ the hunting instincts…. A new situation for the both of them. Paul wouldn’t fight her in a rational mind and she still didn’t know what happened with other vampires met…. Was this how it was?

 

* * *

 

Michael didn’t know how long she kept him in a head lock but steadily, she knew his thirst was winning out against this power struggle, his growls turning into heavy breaths and she waited until his hands loosened from her arms before she made any movements of loosening and darting back into a defensive crouch beside the bio bed. Paul turned and faced her with a fresh growl which she returned loudly.

His noise dimmed a fraction, his lips coming to cover his teeth, but that seemed to change the tense atmosphere between them as his posture straightened up more. More… _submissive_.

“You _need_ to feed.” She spoke, jerking her chin towards the bottles.

Paul’s black eyes flickered to the bottles for a fraction of a second but backed off towards it, doing as she said which was relieving so she stayed put.

It took less than a second for Paul’s attention to win out on the bottles and immediately began to feed from them, sinking his new fangs into the rubber and draining them quickly. But as she watched and as the bottles emptied, Michael could tell that Paul’s more rational side was returning as his posture became less defensive.

Though it took a long minute for him to finish them and look through them again that she drew his attention.

“Paul.” She spoke.

His head turned sharply, his jaw flexing but all hostility from before was gone, and instead he looked if a little confused. “Burnham.” He answered though blinked at the sound of his voice, much richer in tone than before. “What happened?” Paul eyes the canister he had then tossed it over his shoulder with little care for it now.

“What do you remember?”

His face darkened a little, his red eyes flickering passed him to the bio bed. “Being over there…feeling it hurt then seeing you and now.. Standing here.” His discomfort was no doubt at the memory of the burning.

“You got a little hostile at my proximity when you…woke.”

His head tilted a fraction and his eyebrows pulled together. “Yes… I suppose I did. I hope I didn’t hurt you.” His eyes flickering down to the remnants of her sleeve with a look of concern on his expression but she offered him a reassuring smile, shrugging off the blue uniform jacket and tossed it to the side.

“I’m fine. This is just…new territory for me too. I should have allowed you the moment to adjust. I’m sorry for that.”

Paul inhaled deeply, a redundant gesture but his attention moved back to himself; gazing to his hands then down to himself. “This… is a weird sensation, sat the least.” He mused. “I feel… I feel like myself but… I also feel _different_.”

Michael moved forwards again, relaxed this time but Paul seemed himself for the time being, coming to stand beside him. “May I?” Nodding to his hand. It had been a brief scuffle but she did need to make sure….

He passed her quizzical look but nodded, raising his hand towards her. Michael grasped his wrist and pushed up his sleeve to his elbow, her focus on the augment though she couldn’t help but note the unfamiliar sensation of his flesh in her grasp. His skin, while hard, felt like it had a silky quality; smooth. Of course…the temperature of his skin was the major part. Humans were so warm to touch, like hot sacks of water, rooms were also so very warm the ship could feel like a sauna if she wasn’t used to it. His skin temperature was cool… comfortable even. Unfamiliar.

“The augment looks to be intact still.” Michael spoke, examining it, pressing along it’s edges to make sure it hadn’t come away from the skin. “Which is good.” She let go and dropped his arms. “Now, I know you’re probably eager for an update on the ship’s status, which I cannot answer but I should talk to Captain Lorca. Let him know you’re okay.”

Paul nodded once. “I… I believe I need some alone time. Gather my baring’s on this whole…. Situation...”

Michael nodded. “I’ll come back later, with things to occupy you hopefully.” She didn’t wait before she flickered towards the door, pausing as she waiting for it to open. A containment field appearing behind her before they sprung open.

 

* * *

 

As soon as she turned down the last corridor towards the turbolifts, Michael felt a sensation of surprise to see Admiral Cornwell, Commander Landry, Captain Lorca and Saru walking towards her.

Immediately, she could sense the tense atmosphere in the air. The most saturated of mood hovering around Admiral Cornwell and the look in her face told her a lot. She looked very displeased.

A frown appeared on her face, though stood to await the group. “Is something wrong, admiral?”

Cornwell came to a sharp stop. “Stamets, I want to talk to him.”

“I’m afraid I cannot allow that, Admiral. He has no sense of self control at this point in time. He _will_ kill you.” Michael immediately argued. “Surely the others would have told you of such a fact. You’ve seen what _I_ did.”

Cornwell’s lips pursed but she knew that was true as day though Michael could sense that… there was a lot more to what she wanted than attempt trying to see Stamets. “I do want to talk to him soon. Update his room with a holographic projector. If no one but you can enter then I want to ensure we have safe communication.”

“Of course. Admiral.”

Admiral Cornwell looked to the others behind her, folding her arms behind her back. “Of all the things I expected from this crew, from allowing Burnham on this ship; maybe. _This,_ however, was _not_ one of them. You’ve still violated the laws against eugenic experiments and I’m really considering alternative officers than to the few standing in front of me.”

Landry looked away, mirrored by Saru who shifted on the spot at the full implications of her threat. Captain Lorca didn’t look abashed at her displeasure.

“Turning humans can be authorised, Admiral. I’ve read the reports and Stamets was a willing participant in this—”

“Don’t sugar-coat the ordeal, Gabriel. Vampirism is a _new_ territory for Starfleet and we’re still in early days on how to handle them. But your obsession with this little vampire fantasy you have going _will_ stop.” Her tone was hard as she spoke, her skin flushed with blood and the anger kept her temperature higher than usual. “Commander Landry, I want you to enforce the new regulations concerning vampires and allow Burnham anything she needs to ensure this situation _doesn’t_ occur again.”

Landry nodded quick with a tense jaw.

“Hang on admiral-“

“That’s an _order_!” Admiral Cornwell’s eyes flashed warningly at Lorca as he spoke. “You crossed the line, Captain Lorca and I cannot allow it again. You’ll accompany me to Starbase 46 and explain to the admirals why you forced both Burnham and Stamets into a situation they were made to agree with.”

Lorca’s jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing but she had shut him up of arguing back.

“Punishment will be discussed. Until then, Commander Saru, you will be acting captain until Lorca has returned or a new captain is assigned to this ship.” Admiral turned sharply to face her. “Burnham. Walk with me. _Alone_.” The last word thrown to the others behind her.

Michael glanced to the others but she knew the order was _very_ solid. But it wasn’t rubbing her up the wrong way; her instincts weren’t feeling threatened.

“Of course.” Michael gestured down the corridor to which Cornwell took the immediate lead at a very brisk pace. Feeling the stares, she ignored them as she caught up with the admiral in a heartbeat. Though as they walked in silence, Michael could hear the tempered heartbeat lower to a more natural rhythm and her breathing become less tense as well as her posture.

“You’re not in trouble. Burnham.”

“I am relieved to hear that, Admiral.” Michael sighed, watching as they came to a stop in another unused quarters, currently holding the furniture they had emptied from Stamets’s new room.

“I want a full report, in your words on what Lorca did to persuade you to turn Stamets. I know Tardigrade DNA was used but I was also under the impression that your… couldn’t stop.” Cornwell’s head turned a fraction though it lit the understanding to her that she didn’t know the full science behind it.

“True, I haven’t developed that amount of self-control. But I didn’t bite Stamets. A hypospray was used directly to his heart. It was…the safest and quicker method in both delivery and transformation times. The tardigrade DNA was modified to my venom. Two-bird-one-stone sort of situation.” Michael reasoned, being truthful, even if the admiral would get the full story in the reports.

“Will he be able to interface with the spore drive?”

“That will remain to be seen but simulations suggest as such.” She had faith that this wasn't for nothing too. A feeling that looked to be shared as Cornwell’s posture loosened up.

“I’m sorry you were put in this position, Burnham.”

“You do not need to apologise, Admiral. I should have known what I get getting into when I accepted to stay.” Michael answered, sighing a little. “I thought I was more useful on a ship than a cell but I feel like I have made the situation much more complicated.”

“No. I won’t deny you are more useful but you understand our risks. You are new to this… life. I worry on your limits.”

Michael smiled softly, feeling a little couched on woman’s concerns nonetheless. “With the blood replicators, my thirst is controlled and my exposure to humans has… enabled to be become more desensitised. I know and understand my limits. I will follow orders if it’s deemed to risky for me to be around others.”

Cornwell’s eyes watched her with a calculating edge. “How is Stamets? I watched him wake up. I had hoped to get here in time but…”

“Adjusting. Our fight was…brief but he’d in his right mind now.”

“I noticed.” Cornwell’s expression turned with curiosity, less formal even. “But judging what I saw, I suppose that vampires were once part of clans. Fight for dominance must be encoded into your nature. You won, he backed down. It’s…interesting to say the least.”

Michael’s head titled though she felt a little surprised the admiral had caught on to such a trait. Of course, she knew Cornwell had formally been a psychiatrist but she didn’t expect to be examined.

“I suppose. It is now territory now that there’s two of us.” She reasoned back. “Can I safely assume you want me to write up reports on myself and lieutenant Stamets? Update you on how we're interact to each other as vampires?”

“Yes. You’re our only two vampires we know and can understand. I want to know what we’re dealing with— if you excuse _how_ that sound.”

“Of course.” A soft chuckle passed her lips. It was not meant in any offence and she saw little reason to take it as such.

“Take care of him, and keep in contact with me.” From her pocket, Cornwell pulled out a small PADD and held it out to her. Michael’s eyes flicked to it for a moment but took it nonetheless. “If Lorca comes back, I expect to be informed in _any_ further attempts to acquire your venom or a similar situation.”

“Yes, Admiral.” Michael slipped it away. “How long, may I ask, will this…disciplinary take?”

Cornwell eyed her for a comment. “Uncertain. A few days at minimum. Until then stay out of the way. Stamets is your priority to integrate him back into the crew with good self-control. I’ve already assigned Commander Saru a new mission in that time.”

Michael nodded. “Yes, Admiral.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aahh... well not the longest chapter i could have done but it was also my third re-write of the chap. I was hoping to get something out soon for you all but I believe I'm making progress on the plot now. XD I'll probably expand more in later chapters on Paul
> 
> I'd love to hear your thoughts so far. It really helps my muse for this story!!


	11. Insubordination, part 1

Michael sighed deeply and redundantly as she tapped through the buttons of her PADD, settled in the far corner of the Mess hall, waiting to meet Tilly who from what she could tell, was still on her shift and was 20 minutes away from her lunch break and Michael didn’t mind waiting to give her an update on their more recent undead.

It had been 10 days since Lorca’s current removal and since Paul had woken up. Even with her reservations on his control, he had surpassed her expectations and allowed her to continue to train and stretch his self-control. But his frustrations were growing; she knew and understood that it was simply for being in the same room; for not seeing Hugh face to face…. Overestimating and underestimating was a dangerous business and she’d rather _not_ explain to Admiral Cornwell why she allowed him to slip up….yet his discontent would only grow.

“You look unhappy.” A voice remarked. Michael’s eyes lifted from the PADD, following the movement as Airiam slid into a seat with a tray in a content fashion. She smiled, folding her arms over the PADD but not out of privacy; a more relaxes posture for the lieutenant though her meal smelt less than pleasant.

“Not exactly unhappy. Just mild Frustration.” She answered, sitting back a little “How has your day been?”

Airiam shrugged softly. “Adequate. We’ve run a few spore jumps on defending a supply line of ours against the Klingons but I’m sure you’re aware.”

The vampire gave a short nod. It was hard to miss, even if she had been out the picture. Yet she could feel there was more to what Airiam had to say. “I sense a ‘but’ coming.”

The augmented human nodded, “Tilly has informed us that we’re reaching the…end of usage with the creature.”

Michael looked away with a heavy sigh. She suspected as much. It twisted the knot in her stomach, knowing what they were doing to it. It had to go. But, Stamets… by all logical sense, they’d have to try a jump with him, to see if turning him had been worth it.  “I’ll talk to Lieutenant Stamets, perhaps he’ll be ready for a jump test.”

Airiam paused, her head tilting; catching the light on the curve of her plated head that danced away though her expression was hard to read; the plastic mostly as such made any expression on her face hard to distinguish, but she could sense the doubt before she picked up her fork. “How is his progress?”

“He is doing very well. I do believe he’s adjusted enough. Frustrated at being in his room and not talking to a wide variety of people. I empathise with those feelings.” The prison room she had been in had been frustrating but she had grown used to it, no longer bothered by the captivity since she was still a prisoner. That was her life. One she’d return to once her job was done. “You have doubts, I see.”

Airiam chuckled softly. “You’re good at reading people, Michael.”

“It’s in your posture, Lieutenant. But I think with precautions in the engineering, we should manage well with him in.”

Airiam’s mood didn’t feel like it had resolved but Michael opted not to press on the matter; she supposed anyone would. Most of the crew had been out of the loop to start with when Lorca made the decision. While she made an impression, a new vampire was no doubt everyone’s worry as it was with hers. Still, they couldn’t keep Paul locked away.

She looked away though her focus was drawn to the smell emanating from Airiam’s plate. She chuckled softly as she noticed the two garlic breads at the side of her plate. It was strong and yet it seemed to should out the rest of the other smells. It was the type smell that went straight down her throat and not in a good way.

“Do you mind either eating the bread or… discarding it. The smell is… not pleasant.” she nodding to it.

Airiam quizzical look but started to laugh softly, picking up one of the slices and eyed it with an amused looked. “I should have realised that _you_ don’t like garlic.” The implication hung clearly in the air, making the mutineer roll her eyes softly. A vampire that didn’t like garlic. Stereotypical. “Now I know what to smoother myself in if you get peckish.” The teasing was light in her voice though it made Michael laugh softly.

“Oh please, your scent is heavily mask by your cybernetics. I wouldn’t go for you if there’s someone else to distract me.” She answered back.

Airiam laughed though took a bite.

They fell into a pleasant silence, allowing Airiam to eat quickly but her eating the garlic bread had done little to make the smell go away; she was breathing it _out_ now. How it’d follow her for the rest of the day… _lovely_.

It didn’t take too long before Tilly had joined them, and she found herself listening away, a new voice echoing from the bridge catching her attention. She frowned deeply, her hand coming to place on Airiam’s arm, gaining the table’s attention.

“What?”

_‘The abduction took place approximately 2 hours ago. Both Captain Lorca and Admiral Cornwell were taken but the pilot was killed in the fight. By the time Starfleet caught up with them, the warp trail had dissipated.’_

“We need to go to the bridge….”

Michael could feel the look of concern but the mood had certainly changed. She rose to her feet, followed by Airiam and took the lead out— making the mental note to apologise to Tilly later— noting Commander Landry getting out of her chair as well and quickly catching up.

“What’s happening?”

_‘Do we know where the Klingons have taken them?”_

_“No, but we’ll send you the intel we have so far. But we know that, with the small missions you’ve run with the drive, the Klingons have no doubt identified Discovery as a target and no doubt new technology is possess and took both Lorca and Cornwell to learn more. It is imperative you rescue them as soon as possible, before the secrets are pry out of them.”_

_“We will find them, Admiral Terral.”_ A low pitched blip echoed; signalling the end of a transmission, returning Michael’s focus to both Landry and Airiam as they got to the turbo lift.

“Lorca and Cornwell have been taken by the Klingons. Discovery’s mounting a rescue mission.”

“The Tardigrade won’t survive much longer. We have to try a jump with Stamets.” Airiam spoke, mostly to Landry who frowned deeply.

“I don’t think we should jump with him just yet.”

It was no surprise to Michael to hear Landry’s weariness, while she knew there was merit in that justification, the new situation may demand it. Though she was mildly surprised in the moment that she had come but, she supposed, given her position as chief of security and her loyalty to Lorca called for professionalism with her. After all, she had the best hearing on the ship to give them the heads-up.

“We may have to, Commander, the tardigrade may die and we may have no other way out of Klingon space.” Michael replied before the doors opened. She immediately stepped out as Saru continued to call out to the crew on their new jobs.

“Call Cadet Tilly and have the spore drive prepared to jump, multiple times and in rapid succession.” He finished to Owosekun before his attention turned to her, Airiam moving to take her station quickly and Landry to hers. “What are you doing on the bridge, Burnham?”

“I heard about the abduction admiral Terral spoke of.”

“It’s taken care of, go help Tilly prep the drive for a jump.” Saru’s voice became dismissive as well as his shift of attention; anxiety emanating in him but controlled. But Michael wasn’t done.

“Sir, The tardigrade might not be _able_ to jump That’s what I came to talk about.”

A flash of irritant was clear to see in the Kelpien’s emotions as it caused a slight heat change. “With me.” He nodded Airiam to the Conn and strode quickly towards the ready room. Michael darted in first as the doors opened and stood awaiting; reading the unsettled alarm at her sudden presence but she paid that no heed, folding her arms behind her back.

“It’s a simple statement of fact, Captain. We’ve monitored it’s health and Airiam and Tilly had informed me on its health in the last couple of jumps. We _need_ to use Stamets as the navigator. Before it expires beyond help.”

Saru shook his head softly. “Stamets is _hardly_ able to jump. Much too soon to allow him free rein of the ship.”

“We won’t need him to move about the ship. Transporting him into the cube will be perfectly alright. The cube has no lingering scents so it’s no distraction.” She argued softly, keeping a cool tone as she spoke to not tickle a defensive reaction. She wasn't questioning his authority or method. She’d be with Paul anyway to oversee the jump.

“Right now, we cannot guarantee the statistics of how the jump might turn out with him.”

“He was turned for this purpose, sir.”

Saru’s face remained if a little further troubled, while she could see _why_ ; the context of this day had been much different. Michael was living in her own bubble, worry about Stamets and staying out the way while he ran the ship, crew _and_ war. They had very different priorities and a new shared one but they did have to make sure they survived it. She was presenting him a problem he didn’t need. But it had to be addressed. Before they got stranded or worse; end up like the Glenn crew. One that she— and Paul— would walk away from.

“The risks involved are too high to experiment with at a time like this. While still have time however but just because Lorca thinks Stamets is able to interface with the drive, even in his current state, that it not a shared assessment. You weren’t the only one against the procedure.”

Michel pursed her lips together. “With respect, Saru, all tests show that the tardigrade DNA _is_ part of his new DNA structure that will allow him access to the network and through our simulations, he can interface with the technology.”

“Right now, I cannot allow the risks. He is a newly turned vampire. One of the top predators—“

“Your argument is flawed.” Her answer was sharper than intended but her own mood soured at the moment of him bringing up the nature aspect. Saru’s brow arched but his surprise sterned up; his posture shifting as the immediate reaction triggered his ganglia. His jaw tightened. Michael looked away for a second. “I know you have the interest of safety of everyone in mind. But I have to tell you that the tardigrade might not survive. Even if we make the jump there, we might not jump back. As you said, we have the time, maybe enough to run a minor jump with Stamets that could allow us to get to where we need to do with no delay.”

“I won’t deny your reasoning and logical point, Burnham. I also know about its depleting health and I’m fully prepared to pay for the actions with using it now. But I know that using the tardigrade is a full certain way to get where we _need_ to go.”

“Saru—“

“Right now, I do not have the time for this. Leave Stamets where he is and get the Tardigrade ready.” There was full orders in his tone and she could recognise the dismissal yet it settled wrong in her gut. He wasn’t listening. “We can discuss the tardigrade later once both Admiral Cornwell and Captain Lorca is back.”

It was a very unusual gesture, even for Saru to pull this…. She had expected better of him. Certainly not to pass over the health over a creature that was so…vulnerable. While she hadn’t spoken to Saru personally for the past week or so, too busy with her own jobs, she hadn’t expected him to still be colder towards her. Was he still mad that she stayed?

“You’re dismissed.” His tone was final when she didn’t move but she complied, an irritant growl echoing in her chest quietly as she left but she knew Saru’s senses would have picked it up.

 

* * *

 

Michael found her way back down to Ripper, though she opened up the pen and sat down. The tardigrade groaned, it sounds of pain ringing through her as it moved though she watched as he flopped down beside her. It tugged at her unbeating heart. Her fingers came and gently ran it’s huge head; the creature moving  into her touch, pushing his head into her palm and rested its head on her lap. So she didn’t stop.

It reminded her a lot like a puppy as she continued, though she was uncertain of if it was her cool touch offering it comfort or the gesture of being stroked but it seemed to calm the creature.

“I’m sorry…” She sighed, “I keep telling them to stop. You can’t take any more…. I can’t imagine what it must be like for you.” It didn’t matter if it could or couldn’t understand her, but she felt like she could talk to it, one of the few things that didn’t judge her on this ship. “I know you’re in pain. Caged up like this…. It’s not fun. I know. I’ve been there. I’ll be back in it too once this war is done.”

It whined softly, as if it was some reply she couldn’t understand.

Her fingers massaged softly into the fold in front of its antenna, the sound it made in response suggested it wasn’t out of pain but mild relief, turning further into her touch.

“Oh, I see you like that. Well, feel free to tell me when to stop. If you want a massage to ease your pain then I suppose I can help. I have _plenty_ of time.” It was a very weak attempt at a joke; not certain that it would be understood by Ripper. “I bet this is hard for you. If you’re sentient… you’re aware of what’s happening but you’re not able to tell us… You might even understand what I’m staying, huh.”

 

* * *

 

Michael stayed a while with the creature, though it settled on her lap, it snout had dribbled into her uniform trousers though it became obvious it had fallen asleep, she gently moved slowly until she was free and the creature was still asleep but she felt a little calmer now, even if less content on using it; it’s fragile developments felt more real. It really didn’t have much time left….

The vampire strode from the pen and up to a familiar room, waiting a moment for the door to open and step in.

Paul was by the window, a PADD in hand and looked to be intently reading; not moving a finger as she strode in. “So, I’m not going in the cube today?” He asked dryly. “I thought that was the whole _point_ of me being like you to start with was all about.”

Michael sighed heavily but not surprised he had heard her conversation with the others. Just not Saru’s given Lorca’s sound proofed the room.

“That’s still in debate. Saru’s hell bent on using the tardigrade given its success rate.”

Paul’s head rose from the PADD, his eyebrow arching. “I feel offended.”

Michael shrugged. “The tardigrade won’t survive the next jump. But… I was thinking, if you’re in the cube, or get transported instead of the tardigrade into the cube and we jump, the problem is solved and we know your transformation was not in vain.”

Paul didn’t blink as he looked to her with a solid red gaze but not in any judgement. “That’ll get you into trouble. But, I’m willing to do that. I can say it was _my_ idea?”

Michael smiled softly, shaking her head. “I…may have informed Saru about energising you into the cube as opposed to you wandering. He’s very cautious on letting you out.”

Immediately, there was a tightness in his jaw and his rube gaze darkened a few shades that was enough indication that he wasn’t happy. “I can’t stay locked up, Burnham.”

“I agree.”

Calmly, Paul placed the PADD down and rose sharply to his feet. Staying still as he pondered and Michael didn’t move either; allowing the silence between them before he spoke again

“Why don’t you energise me into the cube anyway? If need be, I don’t mind sharing the space with the creature.”

“Saru will be notified of the transport. All captains are for site-to-site transports.” That she knew he was already aware of. Internal transports were very strictly monitored and for good reasons. Only this time it hardly worked in their favour; the pattern buffer could identify Paul from Ripper easily.

“If he’s too busy, he may not notice. The chances are slim.” He sighed heavily. “If he does, it’ll be after. When it’s a success, then jumping out will be allowed.”

Michael nodded but she could see plenty of flaws still. That said, the options were slim. She would get into trouble; might even be seen as insubordination (again) but with Paul now, they couldn’t remove her from the ship without moving Paul; he was her responsibility at such a new stage. At best, they’d confine her to just those duties.

“I’ll go to engineering, talk to Tilly about it. I know she’ll also support the idea, even with the ramifications. You’re still her superior so she won’t get into major trouble.”

A tight chuckle passed his lips though he shook his head softly. “I never thought we’d, or myself particularly, would be talking about committing an act of insubordination against our acting captain. I suppose it’s a familiar feeling for you, Burnham.”

Michael smiled though it felt forced. It _was_ a familiar feeling. Like Déjà vu. Tense situation, no one listening to what she had to say; pressure building…. Though she knew Paul’s remark was not snide, and held an almost teasing edge, if that were possible.

“Sometimes the bad choice for a good cause is necessary. It’s frustrating, I’m sure you concur.”

Paul didn’t answer, turning around to look outside the window with a heavier frown now and folded his arms. “I want to leave this room.”

It did occur to her that was his other possible motivation to agreeing. Cabin fever. He hadn’t been quiet about it. It was a dull room after all, but the view was still great.

“I’ll talk to Tilly.” She promised, turning her back and darted to the doors.

 

* * *

 

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Doubt laced heavily in Tilly’s voice. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for using Stamets over the creature but do you not understand you could be charged with mutiny…. _again_.”

Michael eyed Tilly with a solid expression; her decision was made. “I know it’s a lot to ask for you but it is necessary... I’m already going back to prison after all of it. Not much more they can do.”

Tilly’s face remained very clear of uncertainty but she nodded tightly. “I’ll do it.”

“Thank you.”

 

* * *

 

Ten minutes later, Michael stood motionless with anxiety as Tilly made the final adjustments; she could hear on the bridge that they were close on identifying the possible cruiser that had Lorca and Cornwell so Michael gave Tilly a nod. A close enough timing that it should be missed.

“Energise.”

Gold light filled the reaction cube, reforming into the still form of Paul Stamets that had a very displeased expression. “I do not like that sensation.” He remarked drly, his hands coming to push up his sleeve but he underestimated the material; a loud tearing sound echoed though Michael suppressed a snort at the slit now doing up his sleeve.

“Did have you not changed yet?”

“I hadn’t needed to.”

That explained it. He didn’t know how to limit his strength with such delicate material as she did. Shrugging the moment off, Paul gave the whole jacket a tug and allowed it to tear down the back and pulled off the ruined fabric and tossed it carelessly to the cube floor.

“Let’s get to it.” Paul stepped back and turned his arms outwards towards the needles, the augment and needles responding to the proximity of each other. Tilly pulled out one of the canisters and was just putting it in when the doors suddenly opened.

“What is the meaning of this?!!”

Tilly was the only one that jumped, almost dropping the canister while Michael’s head turned to see Both Saru and Landry in the doorway. Saru’s face said enough; his heart was thudding heavily and the smell of Epinephrine running through his veins. A sheen of sweat much more prominent as a result but he was _furious_.

“Captain.” Michael’s voice remained calm, she kept her expression just as much but she felt the internal knot twist inside her, her body freezing up.

“I gave you a direct order that Lieutenant Stamets is to _stay_ where he is!” Saru thundered, storming down the stops, his height easily looming over her but she felt her teeth sharpen under her lips in the response; a threat reaction that was sensed by his ganglia as the growl rumbled in her chest. Saru stepped back but not less angry. “And you disobeyed!”

“Sir,” Paul spoke, though his frame was still in the stress, his voice was calm but it certainly gained both of their attention. “I am fine. I am controlled and I want to jump.”

“That is not your decision to make, Lieutenant.” Saru moved around Burnham towards the glass with just as much. Immediately, there was a reaction; Paul’s eyes darkening from red to black in the instant, his teeth too sharpening out with a much louder growl.

Landry twitched, her hand coming to her phaser as a flood of anxiety tainted into her blood stream.

“The creature will die if we jump!” Tilly spoke up, though hesitant, it immediately broke the growing tensions between Saru and Paul, both looking to her.  “Please, The science isn’t flawed.”

“Now is not the time to test such a theory. Up on the bridge we were ready to jump; did you not think I’d check to see where the transport would come from?” Landry answered this time. “I overheard the conversations at your lunch.”

Michael’s jaw clenched tightly. She knew Landry had taken a seat close, but it had been busy so she didn’t think anything of it…she should have guessed Landry would continue her games.

“Computer, transport Stamets back to his quarters.” Saru demanded and in the moment, the lingering look of anger stayed glaring to Saru before he was gone. Saru turned to her, straightening up his uniform jacket with indignant. “You will confine yourself to quarters immediately for this insubordination. Your punishment will be dealt with later.”

Landry moved then, nodding her to move but Michael lingered, reigning back her primal reactions; feeling her teeth blunten and her face and gaze passive. But she didn’t know what she said it, but it was by impulse mostly in her own mood.

“Do you really think Captain Georgiou would be proud of you now?”

She didn’t wait before she darted away, not seeing the colour flush wipe completely from his face or the gasp that left Tilly’s lips at such a comment but she did feel some regret. It was a low blow. One she knew she was going to pay for the most. It was not like her to make such a remark and one so personal…

The doors locked behind her as soon as she entered her quarters though she lay down on her bed this time, curling up with her back towards the door.

 

* * *

 

Tilly stood at her station, her mouth still open in surprise and she felt stunned on how things had escalated. It took a moment before Saru seemed to blink, his jaw tightening but his shoulders squaring up.

“Landry, you will assist here.” His voice was less angry with a waver to it.

Tilly looked away as she felt him look over but she flushed heavily. His gaze seemed to say enough; she was to comply with the Tardigrade…. Satisfied, Saru turned and walked quickly out. It took a long moment before Landry let out a heavy sigh and shook her head.

“Didn’t know Burnham had it in her…” Landry strode towards her, “Well I did. I just didn’t expect it.”

Tilly stiffened up but resisted shaking her head. She knew Michael enough to know that she’d regret saying that; lots of people said deep and heavy things in the moment, of course it’d still apply to Michael. Even if they were in the morally grey area of the whole thing…. So not what she was expecting to be tossed into. Was she going to get into trouble too?

Landry moved to the station and tapped along the screen, “Energise”. Gold light engulfed the cube once again and the tardigrade seemed to groan, getting up, it’s claws pressing along the glass as it rose to it’s hind legs and low whines.

_“Black alert, Black alert.”_

Immediately the needles dug into it’s skin; it screeching hit a new octave before the jump was over but Tilly found herself moving towards the cube, watching In horror as it it collapsed forwards, curling up before she wrenched the door open— a part of her wondering _why_ ; what use would she really be? — and watched as the tardigrade began to shrink and water pooling out of it, grumbling once more before it seemed to solidify.

“Shit.” Landry hissed out.

“Culber to engineering, medical emergency!” Tilly called through; she knew Michael had been consulting with him; he’d understand what was going on but she knew they were fucked. The tardigrade… it was either dead or dying. They were right….

It took an horrible long moment before Culber came running in, flustered and with a med kit though it took a second for him to realise the two women weren’t harmed and were hovering over the tardigrade.

“What happened?” He demanded nonetheless as he strode towards them, pulling out a medical tricorder to scan the creature.

“We jumped and it turned into a ball.” Landry answered dryly.

“We.. we tried to use Stamets in the cube first so this didn’t happen but Saru found out and so we had to use the tardigrade… “ Tilly started, rambling a little further on but Culber nodded and hummed as he continued working on the creature, turning it onto it’s back but he frowned deeply.

“It’s alive but… it’s in an extreme state of cryptobiosis.”

Tilly understood what that meant. They couldn’t use it. Not without killing it. This was its last resort to survive. They had done this. _She_ had done this.

“What can we do?”

“Nothing. It’s a reaction to its environment. Any attempt to… re-hydrate it and to use it will kill it.” Culber rolled it back onto its side and straightened up. “I’m sorry but unless you use Stamets, the tardigrade won’t survive the jump. Force isn’t going to work, no matter how much you use. This is a last resort state.” He put his equipment away and placed Ripper back into the cube and stepped away, looking to Tilly sharply. “I need to report this. Cadet Tilly,  I need you with me.”

Tilly nodded, moving quickly from her station. Of course, she should have expected that but facing Saru…again. It made her nervous given what he had said before….

She followed quietly, feeling very self-conscious as she stepped into the bridge though Saru was occupied, going over the stations with new orders; making sure they were close enough to the most likely ship, if they had been spotted and preparing a boarding party before Culber approached him with the state of the tardigrade.

“Well, re-hydrate it and bring it back.”

“In my opinion, that will kill it.” Culber argued back tightly. “It’s vital signs are almost non-existent and I barely was able to detect it. Is state is a last resort against hostile environments. Survival mode.”

“Given our circumstances, so are we, Doctor. I don’t like the idea of doing it but it’s our way back home.”

“You’re forgetting about Stamets, Sir. He’s our only other option.”

“As I said to Cadet Tilly, that isn’t a viable option at this time.”

“It’s our _only_ option, sir.” Culber’s tone tightened. “I’m sorry, Commander but I cannot allow you to touch the creature or force it into compliance. I’m sure my CMO will agree to my assessment.”

Tilly could feel the silence from the bridge crew, the beeps of the stations and the heat of the stares to Saru who didn’t look put down at the assestment. “Doctor, your concerns are noted. I am prepared to deal with the consequences of my actions. But Lorca and Admiral Cornwell are also our top priorities and I have 135 lives to protect. Now, Cadet Tilly, go back to engineering and deal with the tardigrade. I will not hear anything else on the matter.” The last remark directly to Culber but it immediately felt she was back into a corner… she couldn’t say no.

“Yes, Sir…” She felt Culber’s sharp look but couldn’t bring herself to look at him as she went. Her hands clenched tightly as she left to stop the shaking.

 

* * *

 

Somethings, Landry could recognise was not a good idea. Some of those bad ideas were much worse than others. She might not even like any of the bad ideas. Now she was counting 4 people, including Dr Culber that had done or were bordering on insubordination in the last 2 hours on the same topic of Lorca’s little monster. Usually, Landry wouldn’t get involved and continue on but the matter of fact showed enough that despite her own feelings for vampires and Burnham, that Stamets was the only option to get them out. Rationally, how could 4 people be wrong and 1 be right when the situation so clearly said one thing.

She had her job to do but like Saru, she needed to protect the crew. She understood why Saru was against it of course. His Kelpien instincts told him a lot. Especially that it was dangerous to allow it and she concurred given how both Michael and Stamets reacted to his anger earlier. It only showed her further that they could turn on this whole ship in a second. No one could stop them and they had no security measures in place if they did— she had already of course made a note of this to unpack later— not to mention, their growls were very intimidating as well as how cool and collected they were beyond the reaction response. The way Michael had changed her emotions in a second; hostile to passive…

Yet, _they_ were still _right_ on the matter. Stamets needed to be in the cube. She hated to admit that to herself. But she certainly wouldn’t go against Captain Saru’s orders quite like they had done…

Landry moved quickly through the ship, more at a distance and headed to sickbay. She passed Dr Pollard and knocked on the closed door; Culber had been quick to leave the Bridge in favour of his office. It had been 40 minutes since they had gotten behind lines.

“Come.” Dr Culber’s voice was tight as he spoke.

She opened the door and closed it swiftly behind her. Dr Culber as at his desk, writing up a report on his PADD and looking very disgruntled.

“Commander Landry.” He greeted, turning his gaze back frown to the device. “What can I do for you today?” Polite as ever.

“Despite my own judgement, I also concur that Stamets is necessary for the job to get us out of here.” She started, catching his immediate attention but he frowned at her deeply,

“If I’m not mistaken, commander, didn’t you already sell the two vampires out about that matter?”

Landry’s lips pursed but she nodded. Ripper was still alive and well when she had. She was just doing her job. She still stood by it. “I cannot do anything, Doctor, not without compromising my position as chief of security. But if we all get stranded here, we’ll be dead and I’ll lose my position as a result. I’m…conflicted.”

Dr Culber hummed airily, seating back. “Then what are you doing here, commander?”

Landry sucked on her teeth a moment before reaching forwards and picked up his PADD though allowed her fingers to tap along the screen, “this report about the tardigrade, yes?” She could read it to see it was; to why he hadn’t hidden it out of sight given the nature of patient confidentially. Ripper hardly counted, and it seemed it was a basic complaint report against Saru.

“Cadet Tilly’s made no progress on cracking it open. She’s stuck so she may need help. Now, I’m preparing a boarding party, so I’m taking the few I have outside Stamets’s corridor to get ready. You’ll have at least 20 minutes to do your job.” She smiled sweetly and held the PADD back to him, noting the look of confusion on his face before she left.

One the PADD she left a simple few codes for Culber. After all, she wasn’t exactly ‘helping’ by leaving the doctor the security codes to turn off Stamets’s containment field and the door. After all, death by vampire would be equally fast as being shot to oblivion by the Klingons…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehe finally!!! I know i'm looping more into the canon timeline a little more but it felt necessary. I've been a little too focused on Stamets and Micheal that we need to branch forwards.  
> not just on the matter that not every agrees with Lorca on Stamets and so, the high idea of it not working; it's not Saru being an ass but he's doing his best given the circumstances. Not everyone is right, not everyone is wrong and sometimes shit happens lol
> 
> Now, I did a longer chap since you've all been waiting ((it's my thrid re-write lol)) 
> 
>  
> 
> Now, I'd appreciate some comments on what you think so far. There's going to be a minor thing I'm gonna add later on but I love hearing your opinions, real muse booster lol


	12. Insubordination Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tbh, i wasn't expecting to toss a chap this long out so early! but I got motivated but I'd love to hear from you lot; see how you guys think; i'd deeply appreciate that.

Hugh walked quickly, setting a brisk pace from his office with a passing excuse to the CMO to his absence; not informing him of where he was going, passing Dr Pollard who seemed to know exactly where he was hurrying off to but said nothing; to which he was grateful for. He knew what he was doing was bordering on insubordination as well.

In a short amount of time, he knew how it looked and no doubt the new record for Starfleet for this amount of officers—excluding Burnham who was already a mutineer— committing some form of disobedience. Of course, he knew he shouldn’t go down there. He should stay in sick bay and tend to the injured. But he couldn’t. It nagged in his mind that what Saru was ordering was wrong.

Wrong to disregard Paul. Wrong to discard the other opinions of science and logic. He didn’t like that Paul had been turned either but he certainly wasn’t turned for nothing. They were stuck in Klingon space too. With no other options. Yet Saru still ordered no. It made him wonder if it was more than just a blood-lust factor or the first-jump failure-outcome that he was using as an excuse. It was fear.

While he was no expert on Kelpien psychology, it hadn’t passed him that his instincts ran deep; an unconscious distaste for higher predators. Vampires were now the top of the list of this entire quadrant. Earth was home to humans, a weak race to the eyes of many. Now with Michael exposed as a vampire, Earth was also the mother ground of a much deadlier race that the humans were unaware of…unaware of the threat that they posed. Nothing was scarier than the dead coming back that could eat their former kind. He had read the Vulcan’s own take on it which had been an interesting read but it made it clear Vulcans were very uncertain if there was more dangerous monsters that Earth was hiding. They were doing their own research now. Earth was a new hot spot of interest, not just from Vulcans either….

But at the end of the day, Vampires were still on top. Prey species such as Saru would no doubt never feel comfort of peace in their presence. Unaware of that natural prejudice. Paul _needed_ to go into the cube. He was their life line out of Klingon space. Hugh would certainly take the consequences of course. Landry was right; alternative was death and he didn’t see the appeal of that. While he held respect for the new captain, things had to be done. This had to be done.

Hugh walked with conference than anything else, barely passing anyone important and no one batted an eye if they were; they didn’t know his intentions. But he couldn’t deny, he was looking forwards for this, on a personal level.

Seeing Paul face to face… to see him and not a hologram of him… it did make him nervous too. The back of his mind, it flooded the thought that Paul could snap and bite him… worse; kill him. How would Paul even feel after that? Hugh knew the answer but he held onto strong faith that his training with Burnham wasn’t for nothing and it didn’t stop him from making a final turn down the empty corridor towards the doors, a visible containment field covering the door.

His heart thudded a little faster in his chest on his approach. He could do this. Hugh steps slowed, sparing a look down the corridors before he looked to the PADD for the security codes and slowly began to press them into the system. Letting out a sharp breath as the field came down, his grip feeling a little sweater then before but he input the sides for the door and in a second they opened.

For a second, there was nothing and the room was quiet. So he stepped in, only to be met with the sight of a much trashed room. Stuff was everywhere, furniture was knocked over, the table in the corner was heavily bend from an impact force to it’s middle and a metallic chair was sticking out the side of the wall, it’s legs also bent. Paul’s blond hair visible beside a fallen shelf. While Paul was not an aggressive angry man but it was no mistake his aggression was heightened more violently… yet it didn’t scare him. Hugh could only reason it was all pent up with what Saru had said.

“Paul?” He called out.

His husband’s attention was immediately caught before he moved. Hugh kept his gaze down as Paul came to a stop a meter away. His pulse increasing a fraction but he kept his breath even. His nerves was filtering into his blood; so he knew Paul could smell it too….

“Hugh?”

He didn’t need to see his face to know the surprise that was there; it leaked into his voice and his stare felt hot… yet he hadn’t gotten closer. It filled him a little more confidence that _this_ was Paul; Stamets. _This_ was his husband. Relief on that relaxed him a fraction, his gaze lifted from Paul’s feet noticing the state of him much more now he was so close and still. The shoes scuffed and with a new tares in the polished leather, his trousers were untarnished, his undershirt was basic and he wasn’t wearing his uniform jacket… it exposed more of his milky-pale skin that looked…good and surprisingly sculpted.. The holographic projections had done little justice with Paul’s new form.

His lips were smooth an silky looking as did the rest of his skin but there was a little more colour in them in comparison. His whole face over all looked well shaped than before and he could barely see any flaws in his face as he met his gaze.

Paul’s eyes stood out most past it all. Colour mostly. The red dimmed the edges of his irises but it took a moment to realise that his pupils had hugely dilated them for such an effect. Emotions running ever deep within them… and a deep sudden warmth spread through his own chest and seemed to wrap around his heart in a strange weight, his worry and nerves at once seemed to melt away and he let out the breath he was holding.

Around him now, the world seemed to melt away; unimportant now. Hugh reached a hand up, slowly before placing it onto Paul’s cheek. His skin was much colder than expected but he didn’t pull away. Paul’s skin so hard under his own hot flesh yet he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Instead, he found himself smiling softly. Paul’s hand came to cup at his, surprised but welcomed to the contract.

“You’re so warm…” Paul remarked, his other hand coming to his waist, pulling him a step closer as if his closeness wasn’t an issue for his thirst. “and squishy…”

Hugh laughed softly, “and you’re hard.” Paul’s eyebrow rose sharply though a smirk pulled at his lips although it took a second for him to realise how his remark sounded, poking his chest playfully. “You _know_ what I meant.”

“I do.” Paul chuckled in complete ease though a look of light curiosity seemed to settle within the red orbs, his gaze running down his face but Hugh held his gaze, feeling the warm sensation in his chest again though couldn't find a logical reason to why… but he felt the urge to kiss him; a new desire but… not wasn’t the time for those thoughts…

“How is your thirst?”

Paul’s breath paused a fraction of an assessment before shrugging. “Controlled. A mild itch in my throat, nothing more.”

Hugh pursed his lips. That was specifically odd. He was a 10 day old vampire. By all accounts, it should feel worse than just an itch. “Are you sure? Is my scent…distracting?”

Paul’s head tilted a fraction, inhaling deeply though he frowned deeply. “I…” He hesitated, “You smell good, but… you don’t smell like food. I don’t understand why.”

Hugh sighed. It was odd. But they’d certainly find a way to find out.

“Why are you here, Hugh? If Saru finds out, you’ll be banned from seeing me!”

The sudden existence of the rest of the ship suddenly crashed down on him. He looked sharply behind him but a swell of relief flowed through him. The doors were closed. Good.

“Well,” Hugh turned his focus back to Paul, stepping out of his arms though he slipped his hands into his. “We’re about to commit further mutiny to get you into the cube. The tardigrade has failed and Saru’s still hell-bent on using it. So we have to make your move fast, quick and a secret until after the jump.”

The emotions didn’t flow wildly through Paul’s almost literal stone-face, much like Michael’s yet it shone much more in their eyes. He looked surprised but not shocked. Perhaps only at his interference than what was planned.

“You want me to walk out that door?”

“I will be with you, Paul. But ideally, _run_ to Engineering. Your speed now gives you an advantage.”

“I can’t take the turbo lift…that’ll know for sure and pass on the memo to the bridge”

Hugh sighed, “the Jefferies tubes is another option. I can’t follow you that way but that’s the alternative option you can take.”

Still, he could have plenty of reasons to go to engineering without arousing suspicion; the tardigrade. “I… I know a direct passage to engineering through the tubes. It’ll take me a few minutes if I’m not distracted.”

“Here,” Hugh shrugged off his white medical uniform, simply to remove his undershirt; if his scent wasn’t bothering him, then why not use it to cover the other more tempting smells. He couldn’t of course just hand off his uniform jacket without getting questioned but anything he could do to help…

He held out the white tank top to Paul, though he felt a flush at the wide-intent look his husband had as he took it, staring down at his chest before he quickly pulled on his white medical jacket; the room was still cold after all….

“Okay.” Paul blinked himself free of where his mind went for that moment, but he looked more determined. “I’ll meet you there. Order everyone to leave. I’m not taking my chances this time.”

Hugh nodded and turned swiftly.

 

* * *

 

Suffice to say, getting to engineering had proved a little harder than Paul had imagined, mostly on navigation than speed. He had ended up towards the warp core engineering, not the spore drive; though he had Hugh’s shirt tucked around his neck, offering the scent that seemed to burn less than the human ones that filled the vents and tubes around him yet it made finding his way to the correct engine room harder because the smell of the spores was very unique but faint and was easily masked.

But it had been a relief to catch Hugh’s scent down the tube, fresher than his undershirt and followed that though he couldn’t help but take note of a deliciously sweet scent that deepened the burn in his throat; his gums itching and he could feel his teeth sharpen out…

No. He had to focus.

Eventually, he found the right hatch and pushed it open, hearing only two heart beats inside, one ringing familiar with Hugh— how did it sound so unique? And the other was Tilly’s. Both seemed to jump.

“What took you so long?” Hugh asked as he closed the hatch after him.

“I got a little lost. You try navigating the sip in a tube with no map and a fuzzy human memory.”

He ignored the look he got though the burning sensation in his throat only seemed to grow…. His eyes flickering to Tilly; like his former self, her skin was pale and it exposed easily the pumping veins under the thin layer of skin…

Hugh stepped into his line of sight in front of her, breaking his attention back to the moment.

“Cube…” He told himself. Right, he needed to focus. Ignore Tilly. Ignore how nice she smelt. He could do that… Paul walked towards the cube, stepping over the curled up tardigrade and shut the door. He could smell the sticky scent of the tardigrade, like old sweat that hung in the air, even if its source had been long cleaned out. They should have used something stronger to clean it.

He placed his arms out ready but now… it was the waiting game now…

 

* * *

 

Up on the bridge, Saru paced around the chair as they neared the prison ship— still at a distance to remain undetected but he remained uncertain if a boarding party was still wise; the shields were still up and they hardly had the fire power to make a dent into it. They only had one jump left with the creature and couldn’t afford to spend it. So they had to be careful.

“Err, Sir, there’s 5 Klingon ships departing from the ship, heading towards us.”

“Red alert. On screen.”

Visually, the ships popping up yet as he viewed it; Saru could see it was very disorganised from the start. One that was very unusual for Klingons in pursuit of a star ship; they’d be a lot more for sure. Yet the lead ship seemed to be the other’s main focus.

 “We must have been spotted, sir…” Owosekun called out, tapping along the screen.

“They’ll be in our weapon’s range in 30 seconds sir.” Rhys called from his station.

Saru’s eyes continued to follow the flight patterns on screen. Two of the five ships breaking from the back and began to move forwards to pass the lead ship. “The leader of pack seemed to have charted an irregular and erratic flight path…” He mused outload. The lead ship was heading their way, but their ships were pursuing _that_ , not Discovery.

“We’re now in their weapons range, should I lock phasers?”

“Predator packs often split into smaller groups when in pursuit.” Saru carried on, recognising the familiarity of the pattern. Familiar because it was part of his gut instinct, predators more often than not, when working in a group had their way to catch the prey. “First two moves a head of the escape path… while the other keep to chase.” There was no logical reason to why the Klingons would take their own down. It wasn’t a Klingon in the lead vessel. The Captain and the Admiral! “Hail the lead raider”

“Initiating contact will reveal our location.”

“That vessel is being chances, it _has_ to be the captain and admiral.”

That pushed Bryce into action, swirling into action on the communication line. “Unidentified Klingon raider, this is the USS discovery, identify yourself.”

There was a moment of silence as the red alert alarms continued to ring…. The atmosphere tense before the line opened.

“This is Captain Lorca, two to beam out!” The familiar voice of Lorca ran through the bridge, relieving the tensions immediately.

“Bridge to transporter room, do you have a lock?” Saru called out before getting the positive from the transporter officer. “Lower your shields, Captain Lorca.”

Detmer took to changing course as the Klingon vessels changed direction, the lead ship detonating.

“You got us! Jump! Jump now!” Lorca’s voice rang though.

Saru moved back towards the chair, “Cadet Tilly, have you revived the tardigrade?”

“Er… well we should be able to jump sir.” Her voice was a little high pitched that immediately showed she was nervous but Saru passed the feeling off, no time to dwell now. He could see the weapons were loading to fire.

“Go.”

_‘Black Alert, Black Alert.”_

Immediately the lights turned a dark blue, Saru sat back, his fingers gripping the edges of the chair before the sudden lurch that was suddenly filled with light, the jolt stopping a moment later. A sharp breath escape his lips, the space in front clear of all Klingon ships…. They were safe.

“Cancel red alert.” He sighed out, the swell of relief flowing through his veins. “Well done, Cadet.” He knew that was certainly in order…with what she had to do. A shift of guilt did twinge in his stomach but it was also a reminder that he had to get around to…dealing with the issues that had occurred. Given it was under his command, he was no doubt responsible to deal with the officers at hand himself..

“Landry, dismantle your boarding squad and meet me Lorca and Cornwell at sickbay in 5 minutes.” Saru pushed himself onto his feet, “Airiam, you have the conn.” Landry would need to report on the recent events that had happened on ship to Lorca more professionally. Saru knew he also would need to check on the status of the Tardigrade; see himself what he could do about it…

“Yes, Sir.”

 

* * *

 

Saru’s stepped quickly, as the doors to engineering flew open but the mass of officers waiting outside the room immediately struck him as odd before he looked in side. Cadet Tilly and Dr Culber were both in there, bending over the tardigrade but his senses were immediately spiked with a familiar discomfort, his ganglia flaring out…. A vampire had been here. He looked around, though his eyes fell to a opened Jefferies tube panel along the back wall. His jaw clenched tightly and it almost felt like déjà vu as he stepped down.

“Computer, locate Lieutenant Stamets.” His voice coming out tighter and he could feel the bubbles of anger again, not nearly so strong but it was little to the imagination that Stamets had been in the cube and making his quick escape back to his room. He had been let out manually; he had gone through the ship and one of the two humans in front were responsible. Guilt seemed to settle more onto Tilly’s face and Dr Culber’s was passive.

_“Lieutenant Stamets has just entered his quarters. All previous security measures have been reactivated five seconds ago.”_

“Who deactivated them?”

_“Security codes match to Commander Ellen Landry.”_

“What?!” He exclaimed tightly. That immediately threw him odd. Landry?  The chief of security had let him out. His hands clutched tightly… this was not good. He certainly wouldn’t’ let it slide either. He couldn’t… Lorca certainly wouldn’t. Georgiou wouldn’t.

Saru straightened himself up, shaking his head but the two in front of him certainly had their hands in this conspiracy. “Dr Culber and Cadet Tilly. You both will be confined to your quarters _immediately_. I want your reports of what you’ve done and I will personally decide what your fates for these acts of insubordination.” He didn’t allow them to argue before he turned on his heel and walked out.

His heart hammered with the quiet anger as he headed towards Sickbay but he took his moments to calm himself before he snapped. Certainly not at Captain Lorca or the Admiral. Neither would be pleased at the mutinies that had occurred but they’d need to know.

Though as he entered, he saw Dr Pollard fitting a device over Lorca’s mid-second, displaying the sight of a few broken ribs and fractured sternum before she carried on with a regenerator to his face. Lorca didn’t look all worst-for ware, considering. His eyes were much more squinted, groaning out as Dr Pollard ran the regenerator to heal up the black eye he had.

Saru looked around but a deep frown formed as he realised that the other human on the other bed, being treated _wasn’t_ Admiral Cornwell. His eyes turned back to Lorca.

“Where’s Admiral Cornwell?” Saru asked.

Lorca sighed heavily with a wince. Moving his hand to stop Dr Pollard to allow himself to speak. “They took her…” He grunted out. “We…we were both in the cell when we came to, trying to find a way out…she hid her admiral badge on the ship before we were taken so they would think she was just another captain but… it’s possible they already knew. She was…considered more valuable.”

“But she was alive?”

Lorca nodded, “Last I saw was her being dragged away…they said that… she was more useful elsewhere. I don’t think she was kept on our ship when we escaped.”

Saru nodded. He could see the logical thinking. A high ranking member of Starfleet, why keep them together and have a bigger risk of escape when separating them would keep the chance of the highest asset disappearing. But it bred the darker thought that she’d be punished for Lorca’s escape. Did the Klingons attempt to use each other to force them to reveal the truth? But he supposed, once Lorca wrote up the reports, then things was be easier to understand. He was no doubt too tired. Saru could feel the warning look that Dr Pollard was giving him.

“I’ll inform Admiral Terral on the situation.” Saru answered. “There also has been a few… incidents on board since you left. I’ll be handing the punishments for the officers in relation.”

“Incidences?”

“Insubordination. Burnham, Cadet Tilly, Dr Culber, Lieutenant Stamets and Commander Landry specifically.”

Lorca eyebrows shot up, his face fixes for a moment before he frowned. “How long was I gone for?”

“I’ll send you my reports of the situation, Captain but It’s all in hand and I’ll deal with the matter while you recover.”

Lorca’s jaw flexed, eyeing the machine around him before nodded with a mild sense of defeat in his position “See to it, just keep me in the loop.”

Saru nodded and made to head way, his eyes lingering on the male on the other bed, sleeping now as he was worked on; he’s no doubt get the run down on his story later… he now had to deal with Landry who was no doubt on her way here…

Saru’s mental statement was proven correct as the doors to the corridor leading out of sickbay opened, almost walking into her.

“Sir.” She greeted as ever professional but it brought back the residue of anger of her input.

“With me.” He demanded, and took the lead away until they reached a more quiet area of the ship.

Landry seemed to hesitate in following but he could sense her confusion. Not that it mattered. But he was already devising a suitable punishment for her for her small part. It was possibly extreme but it had to be learned. Now was not the time for small impressions. They were at war, 

“I learned today, Commander, that you played a role in involvement of Stamets with the drive on the jump away that was against my orders.”

“I didn’t disobey your orders, Sir.” She spoke. “I didn’t let him out.”

“But you had aided his brief escape. That still qualifies as disobeying a direct order from your captain. As such, I will discipline you accordingly.”

Her eyes widened a fraction and her jaw immediately tightened; he could feel her anger arise but knew better than to voice her objections now. She knew that’d make it worse.

“I’ve decided to temporarily strip you of chief of security rank. You’ll stay as tactical officer on the bridge as usual until I can personally deem that you can follow my orders accordingly.”

Landry’s face flushed under her dark skin and her eyes held a look of silent fury but there was no objection. He jaw looked to be very clenched as a result. But he had made his point. “Now, you have your reports on the events to do so I recommend you do so. Dismissed.”

 

* * *

 

Michael stayed quiet as she lay in silence. Tilly lay on her own bed, staring up to the ceiling and looked to be very pale. If it wasn’t for the strong heart beat the woman had, she’d be frightened her roommate was on the verge of fainting or having a silent freak-out. She was nervous and she couldn’t blame the red head for it either.

She was younger, no doubt worried on having a court marital so early on in her career. Michael had her doubts Saru would do that to her; she after all went along with them when Paul came to them; she had no other involvement than to agree in helping. Nothing worthy anything worse than a slap on the wrist.

Michael had heard a little from Tilly on what had happened; the tardigrade had failed and was still in the cube, Saru once again found out but fortunately after the jump. Dr Culber had been sent to his quarters; he had apparently released Stamets to her surprise but was no doubt next on Saru’s discipline-hit list if he was following through with it.

It wouldn’t surprise her if he was. He was angry and there had been five of them to pull it off in such a small amount of time. She could live with it. Though she knew to probably expect a worse action than the others. He had after all had axe to grind with her more. Now presented the Kelpien a bigger opportunity to vent his obvious frustrations with her… _if_ he took it of course. Should she pack ready?

Michael continued to mull over this, though the door pinged and Tilly sat up quickly. Michael sighed heavily, noting how Tilly’s breathing and pulse increased to a worrying rate.

“Let me do the talking, Tilly, Take a breath.” She assured, darting over to take her hand. Tilly’s hand clenched around it tightly and forced herself to comply, taking deep breaths until her pulse evened out, the door pinging again. She stood in front of Tilly, letting go and folded her arms over her chest, feeling nervous but not nearly so bad now. “Come.”

It was who she expected it to be. Her expression stayed blank and passive, even as Saru looked passed her to Tilly but she didn’t hesitate to step in front of his line of sight again. He was much calmer now and though she could smell the traces of his mood around him, he wasn’t likely to shout. But she felt the protective urge for Tilly. She didn’t want her to break down. Not in front of Saru.

Michael though stared at Saru nonetheless for him to start the talking. She was not ashamed for what she did. Not when it was necessary.

She watched as his eyes focus back to her with an uneasy sigh, his hands fiddling with unease now he was facing her directly, knowing she wasn’t going to break the silence either.

“Captain Lorca has been rescued but Admiral Cornwell remains missing.” He started. “Now, Burnham, I must ask for you to pack your bag.”

“Am I going to the brig?” She wouldn’t expect less. Certainly not surprised if there was even a shuttle waiting for her now.

Saru blinked with a hint of surprise at her assumption but he shook his head. “No. But on the topic of discipline, I’m removing you and Cadet Tilly from sharing the same quarters for the time being. No one will be…officially punished but I’m hoping this separation will aid in fact that there are still consequences to actions.”

Separation from Tilly, as a punishment. It seemed much milder than she anticipated from him. Unless this punishment wasn’t _hers_ … Her eyes narrowed a fraction but she forced herself to move, taking thirty seconds to empty her shelves into a single bag before retrieving the case she had received from Georgiou from under the bed. Her Alice in Wonderland book, she left for Tilly.

Michael watched his eyes flicker to the case with almost a question in them but said nothing, nodding her to follow so she did. They took a turbo lift down to the deck bellow and he led her to a set of doors which opened obediently.

It was a standard single room this time. One bed in in the centre against the back wall opposite the door, the design familiar to her old Shenzhou room though there was a much bigger desk space and more chairs to sit at, a blue blood replicator alongside the standard room replicator. The room was silent, indicating that it was sound proofed. Michael moved forwards and dumped her bag roughly to the floor but kept a hold of the telescope case.

“These will be your accommodations. Your privileges are… more restricted. Your shift have been altered and you’re to remain here when not busy with work or Stamets.”

“I understand.” She replied dully. What else was she to answer with? It wasn’t like she had earned a lot of privileges on being here to start with and she still had duty’s to perform. It’d just leave her with a _lot_ of time to burn. 8 hour shift, 2 hours on top to cover ‘breaks’ that she didn’t need and a further 4 hours with Stamets, leaving her with approximately 10 hours in her quarters a day until otherwise decided. She could probably find some hobbies to do in that time… maybe learn Klingon or something? That could be a useful skill and freak out the Klingons in the process…

Carefully, Micheal placed the case down onto the desk, running her hands over the case for a long moment. She had felt unworthy of such a gift from Georgiou… yet she hadn’t brought herself to take it out since the first time. She had of course considered passing it along to Saru… he probably did deserves it more than she did. But that was before today. Now she felt unsure she could even give it to him.

“What further discipline action are you holding against the others?” Michael quietly asked, not turning to look at him.

She heard him shift behind her, his weight from one leg to another. “Nothing extreme. No one is being held for court martial and it’s an internal matter.”

Michael let out a soft sigh but that still hadn’t fully answered her question. “What about Cadet Tilly? She just went along with what she was told. She’s freaking out that she’s messed up her entire career in Starfleet.”

A soft tut passed Saru’s lips though his head shook slightly. “Your separation should be enough for her.”

“Dr Culber?”

“Not of your concern, Burnham.”

Michael hummed. She doubted that. She’d hear all about it from Paul no doubt. She should see him. When she could.

Saru moved this time, stepping closer with a flutter of hesitation. He wasn’t done. Michael turned her dark red gaze to him, slipping into a more formal stance now. “Is there anything else you need of me, Commander?”

Saru continued to stare at her for a long moment before looking around the room, then to the case. “I’m…not sure. If I’m honest, I expected a much bigger reaction from you for this.”

Right. He still expected _outwards_ reactions from her. “I throw hissy fits when threatened. I do not need to throw a tantrum on the change of circumstances.”

“Please, stop that.”

Michael gave him a quizzical look. “Stop what?”

He straighten up a little more. “You cold demeanour.”

“You want me to get… _upset_ , Commander?” Why was he fixating on that? It was hardly productive and she didn’t want him to feel guilty on the matter, nor did she need to embarrass herself. Not to mention, she was literally unable to shed a tear so crying was out the picture.

“I expected more than just… letting it all roll of your back, Burnham.” Said Saru, shaking his head. “I expected you to put up an argument, find reasoning for your actions, to apologise for what you did… but all I’m getting is a passive agreement. It is _deeply_ unsettling.”

“With respect, Sir, I’ve already processed and dealt with the fine print of that. I knew I’d pay the price for my acts and I’m willing to take it as it comes. Arguing is counter-productive and I’ll apologise when I feel I have to. I’m not sorry for getting Paul into that cube.”

Saru’s face tightened. “How can you say that?”

“How can you stand there and think you’ve got the high ground?” She fired back but she held back from raising her voice. “You almost get us killed, you hurt that creature and you dismissed our only option to get out of Klingon space on very little logical reasoning, which leads me to conclude on the fact that it wasn’t a professional opinion.”

Saru’s face flushed, a new heat of anger washing through him but she turned away and picked up her bags to start unpacking, aware of his eyes following her but she allowed him to take a moment. Arguing, they didn’t need that. She didn’t want that…neither did he.

“Care to….explain what you mean by that?” He tone was softer, more composed.

Michael nodded but continued to pull out her clothes. “It’s your nature. As a prey species, it’s only natural that you have biological prejudices against a predator species. Vampires are on the top of the food chain now and your senses know that. Now, since you have no…argument against Paul as a person, you conclude that now —on an instinctual level—he’s a vampire as well, he’s just as bad as me. You didn’t want Paul there because of _what_ he was; despite his control, despite the fact he was designed for the purpose of the drive, despite the fact we had him ready in the cube for the jump…” She stopped, giving him a glance. “Am I wrong?”

Saru’s smooth face was posed with a frown, his turquoise eyes staring away from her and his arms folded over his chest though the flush remained under his pink skin. He inhaled deeply. “I...hadn’t not realised… but it makes sense.”

Michael shrugged, “I know I’m not the only one who thinks that, Commander. It’s hardly a secret.”

His jaw tensed up a fraction but he nodded. “Hm… I suppose that I…may have overreacted.”

“I understand you were in a stressful situation and forced into a position you were unfamiliar in. I am sorry for…bringing up Captain Georgiou like that. She would be proud of how you handled today.”

His face softened a little, shoulders sagging a fraction and his arms loosening. “It’s…not been easy. Especially on… what Lorca has done before he left to…being left in command. One of the reasons I… I am angry at you. I could have been much more prepared if I had been able to be a student under Captain Georgiou like you had.”

Michael’s breathe paused, stopping as she placed the last shirt into a cupboard. Saru was upset about that…. she hadn’t figured that in all her mulling. Focused a little too hard on what he was than the personal entanglements he had... he had known her longer of course; she should have guesses that’s why he resented her.

“I’m sorry.”

“I could have learned so much. Now, I’ll never have that chance. I made not all the best calls today and I’ll have to live with that but I’ve learned from it. I just hope you can do the same.”

“Yes, Sir.” A soft twist of guilt returned like a knot but she knew that they were done here. Not on better terms but not on the worst. For now, she could live with that.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehe well at least they've settled a little of their personal feelings. I felt that Saru needed to face more of his relationship with Micheal and his personal feelings. It might not be resolved lol but it takes more than a few conversations for that.


	13. A new set of situations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now, there has been a time skip but i felt best to leave our the specifics; i'll leave that up to you to think how long it's been. Micheal times have changes so she's more isolated; to why she hadn't met a few people before, such as Ash so.. it seemed logical.

A soft sigh pushed slowly through her lips. Michael’s fingers dancing quickly across the touch screen that only had a fraction of a second delay in response to her rapid input. The sigh wasn’t out of aspiration, nor to break the tension. Boredom. Both humans she was working the gamma shift had taken to the cultivation bay in an unsubtle attempt to not be here.

It was frustrating but not offending at this point. She should be used to it by now. If she was working with Tilly, at least then she’d have more to talk to. She didn’t like being bored… it made her mind wander.

_‘You know, I didn’t know what sort of myth truths apply to Burnham, but garlic?”_

_A low chuckle from Landry echoed in the bridge as she and Detmer talked. “The woman has super senses. I did my reading that a vampire’s sense of smell is the most important one and I saw it myself.”_

_“But Garlic… does it burn her or something?”_

_“Just over powering.”_

_Detmer chuckled, relapsing into silence for the moment. “It won’t hurt her, right?”_

_“You’re not smothering her in it, Keyla.” Landry reprimanded. “I made sure it’s subtle enough to draw the appeal off your scent. Plus, with Stamets being the new one around, you should worry more about him coming after you than her.”_

_“Hm..” Detmer hummed airily._

Michael rolled her eyes softly, unsurprising that Landry was running the gamma shift and talking about her. Detmer was still at an arm’s length away but she hadn’t been nearly so frosty towards her recently. She saw that as a plus in all considerations. Nor was it a big surprise Landry caught on about garlic. At least she had a heads up…She could only assume Landry had forgotten the Bridge hadn’t been proofed against her.

The engineering doors opened. She didn’t move but she caught the scent easily enough in the air flow that rushed in. She paused in her work to see it was the new guy Lorca has rescued.

He was tall, tanned skin with a slight beginnings of a beard with quite large brown eyes; his posture of light and looked to be quite chipper despite the time. He didn’t seemed to hesitate to beeline for her.

“I’m looking for Lieutenant Nilsson?” He asked.

Michael blinked and spared a glance to the doors to the cultivation bay. “She’s in there. Unless you’ve got an authorised breath print, you can’t enter.”

He frowned, his head titled as he followed her gaze. “Ah.” His gaze remained on the door for the moment. “Any chance she’d pop out?”

“You can call her out, Lieutenant...”

“Ash Tyler.”

Michael nodded, the name had rung about. “Michael Burnham.” Introducing herself at the least, though she knew that he probably already guessed. “Is it important?” inclining her head to the door though she turned her ruby gaze back to her console.

Ash mulled silently for the moment then pulled a face. “I suppose not. Just need her to sign off a few asset requisitions.” He patted the PADD he had tucked under an arm. “I thought she worked the drive, not the spores.”

“Hmm.” Michael hummed with a note of displeasure, “Just her unsubtle attempts of distance from me. Not a fan.”

Ash’s eyebrow rose a fraction. “Because of…who you are or what you are?” His voice remained light but genuine curiosity seemed to leak into his, his head titling a fraction. He shook his head after a second, abashed. “Sorry, that was probably rude of me to assume…”

Michael shook her head, holding up a reassuring hand. “Its fine, Lieutenant.”

“Still, must not be easy.”

Michael shrugged softly. “I manage. It’s human instinct to feel ill at ease around me.”

Ash placed the PADD down and folded his arms with a curious look. “I don’t feel at ill ease around you. Intrigued, certainly but not scared.”

She looked at him in surprise. “You’ll be the third person not afraid of me…after Cadet Tilly and Lieutenant Airiam… Not sure if Stamets counts.”

Ash chuckled softly, moving to shift his weight. Now completely side tracked from his original purpose but she didn’t remind him. She could sense that he wasn’t scared. His curiosity did shine in his eyes but she wasn’t sure if they was something to be flattered about. A grey area. Her own curiosity was stirred nonetheless.

“I guess that’s debatable. I also heard what happened when I arrived, Lorca’s got me promoted to Chief of security.”

Michael nodded nonchalantly. “I’m not surprised you know about what I am. I’m just surprised Landry didn’t put up a fight about it.” Her distaste of demotion was clear. He’d no doubt witnessed that himself.

Ash laughed. “She certainly looked ready to punch Commander Saru. I heard what happened...”

Michael pursed her lips, humming a little. Her work she was doing was finished so she closed it down and moved to the main Spore Console to start the nightly deep system diagnostics. He shadowed her after a second.

“Still, I’m sure Commander Saru will lift the disciplinary soon enough. Working Gamma shifts must be boring.”

“ _Tedious_ mostly.” She remarked dryly, “but, knowing Saru he’ll keep it extended on me for now to make a point. He’d not exactly happy with me.”

“And the others?”

Michael shrugged. “Paul is… getting aggressive with the isolation from Dr Culber. Much more prominent the last couple of days. I may need you help to help persuade the visits.”

Ash’s head titled. “Doesn’t he have access to his holo-projector now?”

“There’s only so much you can do with a hologram, lieutenant.” It was perhaps a merciful thing Lorca had allowed that over Saru’s head. It was too callous to completely keep Paul isolated for an extended period of time, given how distant he had been before after his transformation. He was not a prisoner.

“Well, that was an image I didn’t need in my head.” Ash’s tone dried up though Michael gave him a playful look at where his mind went.

“All I’m saying, Paul’s perfectly fine around Hugh. I suppose it could potentially be that Paul recognises him as his mate, so doesn’t want to harm him by accident. Not that I have enough evidence to support the idea…after all, me and Paul are the only vampires being studied and with no prior lessons from our own kind.” She mused thoughtfully. “I feel so uneducated about what I am…”

Ash said nothing, his eyes lowering after a second.

“Still.” She sighed, “I need to finish my diagnostic, I believe you’re looking for Nilsson.”

That immediately reminded him, spinning around to find the PADD and quickly grabbed it. “Right, forgot.”

Michael chuckled, hearing him call for Nilsson and didn’t pay attention to their exchange when she came out. Though her mind was pulled from her work when she heard the familiar voice of Culber, his steps too but she immediately noticed how unsteady they were… he was muttering under his breath and his heart rate was immediately erratic.

“Wait.” She called out, startling Ash as he started for the door. He turned to her with a confused look before the engineering doors opened and Dr Culber came stumbling in. His whole appearance startling since she had last seen him.

His skin was pale and covered in a sheen of sweat, shadows under his eyes and his small bearded and moustache that looked once kept to the edges had grown out more with stubble. His hair looked a little unkempt too, probably due to being bed hair given he was in his night ware but he looked unwell. His breathing was fast that seemed to go hand in hand with his erratic heart rate but his scent worried her the most. She could smell in thick waves the adrenaline coursing through his veins along with other stimulating hormones that too no doubt explained the huge erection he had almost concealed behind a medical kit. A hint of desperation lingered in the air around him.

“Dr Culber?” Ash moved forwards to offer aid but Michael was there in a heartbeat, her hand coming to grasp his upper arm to steady him as he swayed. His skin very hot to touch, like a fever.

“We need to get you to sickbay.” Her hand pressing against his forehead; feeling the fever much hotter but he seemed to shake his head in her grip, shivering at the contact.

“No…” Culber mumbled. “No I need to see Paul— oh your hand feels nice.”

Michael’s concern didn’t lift but Ash was by Culber’s other side and she knew they were on the same wavelength to get him where he was needed.

“You have a fever, Hugh. We need to bring that down, as well as your heart rate, get some fluids in you then we can talk about you seeing Paul. Commander Saru is asleep and Captain Lorca is still off duty.”

“Actually, Burnham, He’s back on duty.” Ash spoke up, drawing her attention. “Starfleet has ordered us to try and find a way to break the cloak and to find Cornwell. Lorca’s been… put under supervision of Commander Saru as joint captaincy the last week since his recovery.”

“Really?” She didn’t see how that’d work out well. For any of them. Lorca taking orders from Saru?

“If you’re not going to help me, Michael, then let me go… I know what I need.” Culber protested, shaking her hand away and weakly tugged on the grips he hand on his arm but her grip was too stiff to break.

“Hugh, I’m concerned for your health. This is unusual symptoms. Did you take anything?” No, she knew that was a wrong thing to ask; she couldn’t smell any drugs in his blood.

“I’m not sick, Burnham. I’m…. I’m…” His cheeks darkened, flushing more colour into his pale face. “I’ve been having…really _good_ dreams about Paul and I _need_ it to happen in reality….”

Ash came to a stop with an uncomfortable look at her though Michael knew her own grip slacked but this was more than Culber being aroused. She could tell. The way he said it. _Need_. The desperation was…too strong for just a simple hook up between lovers. But why _now_?

If she was honest, it did spark a familiar sound with her… equally embarrassing yet it was…logical. Was it possible that Paul himself was also experiencing the same thing? Her more recent visits with him over the last couple weeks had shown increase agitation and desire... _for_ Hugh…

“Here.” She nodded Ash to help pull Culber aside, back into the engineering lab and shut the door. Checking the room to make sure that they were alone. “Can you…talk to me, Hugh on when this…feeling started?”

Culber groaned, his hand coming to his face. “Do I have to?”

“I should probably go get Dr Pollard, she’s working the gamma shift.” Ash started but Michael held up a hand, requesting his patients with a look before turning her gaze to Culber. They didn’t need a bigger audience.

“This… this is unnecessary Burnham. What will this…talk even do?”

“It’s highly likely _mutual_ , Doctor.” She started, gently pushing the human to sit down at the steps. “And… that’s given me the thought that this…reaction you’re having is the result _of_ Paul. Perhaps it’s a vampire thing?”

Culber’s head rose from his hands though something seemed to click in his face. “Oh…” His octave dipping down an immediate edge of realization. “He… His pupils went huge when I saw them… I got.. I got this warm feeling but… I didn’t think anything of it. I was just glad to see him...”

“Warm feeling?” Ash echoed, though he kept his voice measured, Michael could feel his doubt.

“That was…when you saw him. In front of you. This hasn’t happened before with the projectors.”

“I. I can’t explain it, Burnham but… that’s when the feelings started. Now it…feels like a chugged a barrel of whisky and it’s _so_ hot.” He hand came to wipe his forehead then shivered.  “I need Paul…. I know he’ll make it feel better.” His jaw setting before he turned to look at her with a steady gaze. “Please, Michael.”

Michael sighed but nodded. “I’ll get you to Paul. But first, Hugh, let’s take a small detoured to the med bay and report this so we can appropriately find ways to help after. I doubt vampire-human relations aren’t going to be injury free and you’ll be exhausted.”

His cheeks darkened a few shades but she knew her logic had merit, moving to stand up. “Just…. can we keep this _quiet_ as possible…” his eyes flickering to Ash mostly who hesitated but nodded. “I’ll need clearance for the intimate relations for inter-species relationships… Pollard and Saru can deal with it.”

The vampire nodded, moving forwards and helped him up to his feet, he swayed but stood tall. “I’m glad for your cooperation in this… difficult time.” It certainly made things easier.

“Let’s…hurry. I don’t want to wait longer than I need to…”

 

* * *

 

“Well this is new.” Dr Pollard remarked as she strode around Culber’s Bio bed, “but also the most plausible explanation for the mood swings and hormonal imbalance.”

“Thanks.” Replied Culber dryly as he lay there, staring up at the ceiling and trying to ignore the throbbing throughout his body, how hot he was but the few shots he had, it made it feel less intense, more clear minded. But he knew his gut that it wouldn’t last. He needed Paul, needed the relief and the coolness of his body… make all this pent up heat go away and clear his mind....

“Hm, plus vampires are still so new to us. Who was to guess they had a mating process?” She continued rhetorically. “Well, maybe the ones on earth that are still kicking. Not sure if they’d be able to write up a manual—”

His jaw flexed “Is that important to discuss, Tracy? _I’m_ the one with the problem and still not with Paul so… I’m a _little_ uncomfortable being here right now.” Culber sat up impatiently, brushing away the hypospray as soon as she was done. His patients with her was now growing thin.

Pollard rolled her eyes and smiled softly at him. “Almost. I’ve signed off your clearance, we’re just waiting on Saru to sign it too. Michael is catching him up—“

Culber groaned deeply, his hands coming to his face. Just what he needed. More people to know.

“—and from there, she’ll take you to Paul. She’s got a med kit and can get me for anything worse than skin damage.”

He closed his eyes, his face feeling like he was on fire. Nope. Not that he needed. He didn’t want this conversation with his colleague. Professionally or not. He didn’t want those parts of his lives to cross with his and Paul’s sex life. Whatever this was, he hoped to god that it wasn’t a cycle. Not like Vulcans; this once was bad enough.

“Got it.” Michael’s appearance made him flinch, her figure blurred as she came to a stop beside him and held out the PADD to him. Culber took it and dropped it off to the side and hopped off the bio bed— they were done then.

“Come on.” He called though he watched as Pollard handed the vampire a med kit and easily stepped beside him as he headed towards the turbo lift.

She didn’t speak as they walked but he was glad for that…. glad that Michael had stopped him from going straight to Paul despite his reluctance. There was no hint of judgment from her, there was a professional understanding with her that made it…easier to be around her. Perhaps it was her unnaturally passive-cold demeanour that helped>

“Thank you.” He spoke up after a moment, still not looking at her. “I want to talk later. Is Saru mad?”

Michael shook her head. “I was vague in what I told him but he seemed to understand it’s not your fault and needs to be sorted as soon as possible. You’ve been relieved of your work duty for the next 4 days.”

Culber nodded, finding comfort in those word as well as the surge of affection towards her. She was a good friend.

His attention shifted as the doors opened to the quieter corridor and he knew where he was going and sped up. He could feel the heat inside get hotter, his heart fluttering now in anticipation… he was so close. He could feel it…

His fingers found the buttons to the door, pressing the codes but he growled annoyance as he fumbled. Cool fingers suddenly pulled his hand away, dancing over the key pad before the containment field dropped. Culber’s eyes watched as Michael started the second code, pausing on the last one before turning to look at him.

“I will be in the next room. Call over the com for me since the room is sound proof if anything happens. Okay?”

Culber nodded, watching her put in the last number and the door opened. Culber didn’t hesitate to rush in, his eyes immediately falling to see Paul… not hesitating to go straight for him and pulled him into an immediate hug that was immediately reciprocated; the coolness of his form seeping out against his hot flesh that seemed to offer relief…

“I’m here, Paul.” He whispered, feeling his arms tighten around him, his cold nose pressing against his neck but he felt good in his arms…safe…. This was _exactly_ where he needed to be. “I love you. Undead and all.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Katrina Cornwell groaned out softly, waking sharply to feel stabs of pain running down her front and limbs. Throughout her torso, her breathing _hurt_. Each breath in shot a new fresh wave of sharp stabbing and each breath out made it worse; like she was inhaling shrapnel. Taking a moment to become aware that there was a small relief; the cold metal under her felt soothing to the pain.

How long had she been here?

Katrina didn’t know. Memories and days were all too blurred and the Klingons were persistent bastards. She knew this particular torture session wasn’t for information; they knew she wasn’t talking. Torture was hardly an effective way to get information; _true_ information. There were too many lives at stake for her to reveal just for a break from pain. Discovery was too higher value… she knew her suffering was worth its secret. It just sucked nonetheless…and she could really do with a strong drink…

Katrina groaned again as a twinge of pain flaring down her spine as her foot moved; no longer balancing on the heel of her boot but that sharp pain brought her awareness further back to her mind. It took a long moment, though she gritted her teeth tightly, forcing herself to move. She couldn’t stay lying down.

The strain immediately was felt and there was immediate protest that almost winded her but she pushed herself up onto her hands and knees, panting fast but she continued, shifting an arm and knee forwards; a bench of sorts, perhaps a table; she could hardly tell. Either way, it was in the middle of the room and offered her a good place to rest up against that she could see out the door’s window. She knew the guard was outside, no doubt enjoying the sounds of her pain but she needed a better vantage point… needed her mind focused.

“Ah..” Her fingers brushed at the step-base of it, twinging a fracture in her pinkie but she felt some merit in her current state as she gripped at the bench and slowly pushed herself up against her. Relieving the weight more onto one side but lessened the strain down her spine as she lent forwards, pressing her face against the cool metallic surface.

“Interesting.”

Katrina flinched, hearing the sudden voice that seemed to boom around the room, her head turning slowly as she released what direction it was in. Her eyes turned, slitting as she saw it was a small grey Klingon female, the side of her face heavily burned and hardly healed. A recent battle injury for sure.

“Beaten to an inch of your life, starved and tortured, you _still_ try to make yourself comfortable. Not many humans do that. More often than not they…curl up and die.”

She closed her eyes, blocking out the sight of the female and didn’t answer; her voice was strained and ached with the use of screaming. Why waste what little she had?

The Klingon moved from the shadows, her steps echoing.

“You’ve resisted a lot for the sake of that ship. Discovery. Captain Lorca was an honourable man, no matter how much light I poured into his eyes, he didn’t not break.” A hint of a chuckle lingered into her voice. “It was a shame his body couldn’t take such attentive abuse.”

Katrina’s stomach tightened at the implication… there was no way she’d think they’d kill him. He was far too useful for them… just as she was too useful to be killed. He would have escaped their prison ship. She was sure of it. The man was far too stubborn to stay prisoner.

“You do not believe me?”

Katrina cracked open an eye, not reacting as she saw the Klingon’s burnt face was inches from her own. “You… you’re trying to…feed me false…intel.” She rasped out, “to… bring down my…resolve.”

The Klingon smiled, exposing sharp glistening teeth and let out a short laugh. “So sure of yourself. Admiral.” She moved back and straightened up. “We consumed his flesh, as but we saved you his badge and his bones. If you die, then house Kor will feast off yours.”

Katrina flinched as the Klingon moved away, rolling her sore neck as the woman went to the door; retrieving a bag from the guard and maintained eye contact as she opened it and emptied the content onto the floor.

Her jaw tightened but she refused to look; hearing the clink of a metallic badge on the floor and the sounds of splintered bones echoing as they hit the ground, followed with a flop of soggy fabric too and each other but she refused to have any belief in this… She knew Discovery; they would have gotten him off that ship…. This wasn’t him.

 _“Bon appetite._ ” She dryly remarked, though closed her eyes again and rolled her head down to rest against her arms. But the sounds echoed in her mind, the smell of blood making her feel queasy…. This was a game…. They were messing with her. They _had_ to be.

A sharp yelp escape her lips as suddenly her world span, her neck bending back sharply and she could feel the sudden grip in her hair, forcing her from the bench and eradiated new pain through her torso. Her back hitting something hard and sharp; digging into the wounds in her back. A cool, sharp and metallic blade drawing her focus from the pain as it was pressed against her throat.

“You’re a strong woman, Admiral, for a human. But no one will come for you. Not even Starfleet…”

Katrina winced, gritting her teeth together as she felt the blade dig in but the pain in her ribs seared in agony, making it hard to concentrate on the Klingon… her head spun and she felt like she was on the edge; not sure if she was going to pass out or throw up…

“I…I know.” Katrina rasped out, her hands coming to her head, to get the Klingon to let go of her hair…her neck bent back _ached_ at such a wrong angel.

“But I won’t allow risk of you escaping. A quick remedy is simple….” The blade moved but Katrina couldn’t tell where… until she felt the long curved edge against her spine… then suddenly the Klingon moved sharply, her knee shifting back as if preparing to knee her hard in the back…..then sudden white burning pain that followed a loud crack; hearing it before she felt it. A scream of agony tearing past her lips, the pain filtering though her brain; unaware of the curved edge  of the blade as it was removed from her spine or how her legs fell limp under her, her mind and pain swallowed immediately into the blissful dark…..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehe i felt a little evil writing but I felt like Cornwell needs to have her own little part too. A little sass and angsty shit, love doing it lol. Plus, I think it'll help for the next few chaps. I have a few ideas lined ready. 
> 
> I will point out now that, I won't be shipping Ash and Micheal as a **romantic** couple (i'm more of a pike/Micheal shipper) but they could have a physical relationship... yey or nay?
> 
> Love to hear your thoughts. I like the idea of vampires finding their mate with that vampire mate-bond but I'm having trouble finding a name for it. I'm not calling it an Imprint-- too twilight for this story and that sounds...weird for what it is. I need it to be awesome but simple and I'm open for suggestions.
> 
> please comment!!


	14. Post Effects

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this is unexpected; tossing out another chapter in a week..... damn. I have real muse rn. 
> 
> plus I'm eager to get to the MU parts lol I hope it doesn't seem too rushed!!!

“How are you feeling?”

It was a board question to ask as she stood behind Dr Culber with the demur regenerator, her cool hand offering relief to the swelling on the area as she healed up the deep scratches and bruises, working on his shoulder and back to start with. Her question was to Paul, who was dressed and supporting his sleeping husband against his shoulder; It was clear as day Culber had been exhausted and would no doubt stay asleep for many more hours to come but Paul had been willing for her to help.

She didn’t doubt he’s feel sore when he did wake but she’d rather have him as comfortable as possible when he did.

“Better. I wondered why I was getting moody.” He mused quietly, stroking down the back of Culber’s neck fondly.

She gave him a nod. Though he didn’t seem embarrasses as Culber did about it but she supposed Paul was kept away from the limelight about it… and as what he was, he no doubt felt different about the subject of sex. Or his opinion of it had changed now.

“Hm, seems a vampire mating instincts caught us all by surprise.”

“ _Us_? All?” Paul’s eyebrow perked.

Michael paused, eyeing Paul for a moment before carrying on. “It was under the assumptions vampires mate like humans. Not stare into their eyes and get…bonded by that method. We still don’t know the method or trigger.”

“Not my choice of words, Burnham. It’s… more than that.” Paul sighed, a small smile on his lips, his eyes flicking away in no doubt recalling the moment.

“Hm.” She watched as the hand shaped bruised disappeared, leaving Culber’s old scar on his shoulder then started down his spine. “So, are you willing to tell me what it’s like to bond in that eye-contact moment? Just in case I ever do so...” Which she doubted. Who knew how it worked but she’d rather know in advance if Paul was in a sharing mood. A position she never considered she’d be in; asking Paul about _such_ a personal question…maybe she should rephrase?

Paul frowned deeply but came back to the present. “In the moment… it was very slow for me. It was like… a weight shifting inside, warm… like, nothing or no else matters but this person. Not you, not this star ship, nor anyone… They are all you need. Everything else is secondary.” He smiled softly, his gaze down at Culber shifting but she looked away; this was far too personal than she was comfortable with.

“Sounds like it’s a psychic sort of bond.”

Paul shrugged, “Perhaps. I knew he needed me… I don’t think I can explain what it felt like to be separated. Our bond wasn’t…done.”

Michael nodded. What else could she say? She could feel the intense emotion in his voice; see it in his face and how he cradled Hugh against him as she helped heal him up. She had never seen such depth to Paul before, so much emotion. He was so careful too with how he handled him. He was clearly showing a lot of trust to allow her this close if it was so close with him.

“So, your time with him was to deal this bond with…physical contact.” That of course didn’t just apply to sex— that might be a part of it but she had seen Hugh hug him first than jump straight to shredding of clothes. It wasn’t about sex. The need for closeness. No wonder Paul had no appetite with him; they must have natural resistance against their mate’s scents. They didn’t want to accidentally kill their mates. How had that _need_ for physical contact felt?

Suffice to say, she felt curious on the matter but the idea of such an emotional bond… it felt too intense for her. No one would want her and she would go back to prison; who’d want to bond with her and only to be separated. Given she hadn’t “bonded” with anyone on this ship, she didn’t have to worry.

A frown flittered across her face as her eyes ran down the side of Culber’s neck, noting the crescent shape mark just under the edge of his jaw line. She recognised it as a bite easily but she couldn’t smell the venom in his system; it was perfectly healed over than any other bruise or scratch he had so far. It wasn’t a bite to turn… but to mark him? Michael chose not to question it. Hugh was fine.

Seeing no more bruises on his back or shoulders, Michael turned off the regenerator and rose from the bed; her work was done. She felt little desire to impose now. She felt confident too that Paul no longer needed to be kept inside a room. He could wander like she could. Work the drive. Integrate back as a normal crew member.

“I will talk to Commander Saru and Tyler about your wandering privileges.”

He looked up from Culber and smiled softly. “Thank you”

 

* * *

 

Her steps were next to quiet as she flitted through the hallways like a breeze. Her mind focused on what she had learned. She’s need to write it up for their species file…. On the off chance there were more of her kind or the unlikely chance she or Paul would turn someone else, a heads-up would no doubt be needed.

Who knew what this bond would grow into? Especially given the fact that Hugh was human… how it’d affect him, would he be turned later down the line? By gut feeling, if Hugh died, Paul wouldn’t not be able to move on. Turning Hugh would no doubt be his end game… but also Hugh’s careered end. Vampire and Doctoring wasn’t something what went hand-in-hand safely…

“Burnham!” A voice called out, drawing her attention away from her mulling..

Her eyes turned to see Commander Saru walking briskly towards her. Immediately, she straightened up professionally and waited. What did she do now? Nothing came immediately to mind… maybe she wasn’t in trouble?

“Afternoon, Commander. I was just on my way back to my quarters. I still have 5 hours until my next shift tonight.” She answered as the Kelpien stopped short. He too looked to be putting up a professional front; straight back, chest out and arms behind.

“You’ve been reassigned. Captain Lorca wants a word with you in his ready room.”

Michael nodded. “Of course.” Though she moved at a human pace, Saru didn’t seemed to hesitate to follow in line with her quietly, until they got to the turbo lift. She kept her eyes forwards as the door closed.

“How is Dr Culber?”

There it was. Michael didn’t look to him in answering. “He’s doing well. The worst of its passed and sleeping it off. Took them both by surprise. Who knew vampires had a biological mating system?”

Saru nodded softly, conflicted. “I suppose I owe them my apologies.”

“You didn’t know.” Her tone soft in her assurance.

The Kelpien shook his head. “Regardless of my ignorance, I may have been short sighted in handling those two… and your kind in general.”

Michael turned her gaze to him softly but didn’t know how to answer. “What’s brought this conversation on, Commander? I thought we said what we had to after Paul’s first jump?”

He hummed in a dismissive manner, “I’ve had a lot of time to think about what you said Burnham. I don’t deny my natural prejudices but I’m learning to accept it and how to handle it.”

“I don’t expect you to lift your disciplinary actions, but I’m starting to feel a few mixed signals at the changes being made.”

Saru shrugged. “You’re absence has been noted in the Alpha shift, Cadet Tilly is…falling behind. She’s not used to her current position without support. It would be…illogical to allow that to continue. The Drive needs to be optimal”

“And Stamets?”

“His…integration back shouldn’t be sudden. But I’ve relaxed the resections and he should be allowed to leave his room. We’re already lining up a few missions now the drive is functional again so I expect he’ll be called down to engineering today.”

Michael frowned but nodded. It was certainly an improvement… she was looking forwards to seeing Tilly again. In person. Not to mention, catch up with Airiam and—

As soon as the turbolift doors opened, the wafting smell of garlic suddenly hit her in the face. Strong and powerful. Her face scrunched up and immediately held her breath but she could see the back of Detmer’s head to know who was wearing it. The Helms-woman turned as they exited but Michael gave her a questioning look of ‘ _why_?’, earning herself a snort and a quick turn back to the front.

“Problem?”

Michael shook her head, pressing on towards the ready room doors and chimed which opened to the dark room. She entered it alone and watched as Captain Lorca held something to his eyes.

“I suppose the Klingons made your eye condition worse, Captain.” She spoke up softly. “Lights are much dimmer than they were before.”

Lorca chuckled, finishing his left eye and tucked the kit away into his uniform jacket, blinking rapidly for a moment. “You could certainly say that.”

“What did you need to see me about?  I was told my assignments are changing.”

“Ah, Straight to business, I see.”

Michael shrugged once. “I don’t want to get off topic, Sir.”

Lorca continued to smile, moving around his desk before holding out a PADD to her. She looked down at it for a moment though couldn’t help but feel a little confused as she began to flick through it.

“My new schedule? But it’s a Science Officer post for the bridge?” She recognised the patterns of the shift easily, remarkably similar to her old post on the Shenzhou, prior to being promoted to First Officer.

“Yes.” He nodded. “I want to make it official. There is a science officer position open on the bridge, I want you to take it.”

Michael eyed the schedule for a second but nodded after a moment. “I accept, on a condition?”

A quizzical look appeared in his blue eyes though he looked to be uncertain to what she might ask of him but she waited to let him stew on the wonder of what she’d ask of him. “What condition?”

“I would like an apology for forcing me and Stamets into his transformation.”

The look disappeared from his face, replaced with a nod and a look of an apologetic agreement. “Right. Yes, that’s… most _definitely_ called for.” He moved back around, straightening up. “I am sorry, Michael Burnham, for co-opting you and Lieutenant Stamets into a turning him. It was wrong of me and I do recognise that… I was wrong to do so.”

His heart rate remained even, his face open with a sincere expression. She could see he was genuine in his apology…

Michael smiled softly and nodded. “Thank you. I accept both apology and position.”

“Good. Your new shift started 4 hours ago but I think you can…catch up easily.” Nodding past her to the bridge but she got the hint.

“Of course.”

 

* * *

 

“A promotion, huh?”

Michael rolled her eyes as she sat with Tilly, now late evening and Tilly was more than happy to eat and talk with her now that she could. Although she remained uncertain if Saru would allow her to move back in with Tilly but this was good enough for now and Tilly was very chirpy as she ate.

“Not what I was expecting but… it should allow me a balanced time table with plenty to do than before. Stamets is… very cheerful. Not sure if that’s to do with today’s jumps or his personal time with Culber.” She mused out loud.

Tilly hummed, “You still haven’t told me about that.”

Michael shrugged. “It’s a private vampire thing. I promised my digression.”

The red-haired paused with a front before nodding and letting it pass. “I suppose. Still, must be nice to get out of your room. I miss you.”

A smile tugged at her lips. “I missed you too but, now I can wander around the room without fear of waking you this time.”

“Hm… and I don’t have to worry about waking up to you looming over me.”

“When have I _ever_ done that?” She couldn’t help the soft chuckle at the picture Tilly was painting. Certainly an amusing one but she didn’t want to give Tilly a heart attack or scar her for life.

“Just an intrusive thoughts I had when you first moved in. You freaked the fuck out of me, remember.”

The vampire rolled her eyes, though her eyes caught the approaching figure of Ash Tyler. She smiled softly at him, moving a chair out for him. Over the past couple of days, she had found him working closer with her than expected, not to mention more chatty with her which was refreshing.

“Thanks.” He smiled, sitting down and looked to Tilly. “Evening. Good day?”

Tilly smiled back with an enthusiastic nod. “The best. My old roomie is free and now Stamets is back and I feel like we’re a team again. Starfleet’s impressed that our mission today was a success. Three Klingon birds of prey against us and we saved another of our ships in the process.”

Tyler hummed, tucking into his hamburger with a hungry eagerness. “It helps when you got the support of a solid bridge crew. Though… Detmer. Am I the only one noticing she’s wearing a little garlic around her neck?” his finger gesturing to his own collar as he spoke although she felt his gaze flicker to her at the reference but it made her smile nonetheless.

“Landry’s suggestion, Lieutenant. She was talking with Detmer a few days ago about it. Vampire deterrent. Picked it up after Airiam was eating garlic bread with me. Smells horrible.”

“Ironic.” Tilly quipped with a wink.

Michael tossed her a playful look. “I doubt that would _really_ stop me, Tilly.”

The woman in question faked a huge gulp but the smile stayed before turning her attention to Tyler. “So, what brings you to our table? I didn’t know you knew Michael.”

Ash smiled, putting down the half of his huger for his napkin, washing it down with his tea and sat back. “We ran into each other the other day, plus helped with the whole Stamets thing and well…. I’m not put off by her.”

“Thanks.” Her tone was much dryer than intended but she understood the teasing to it, although it was the truth. If she was honest, he was bolder than she’d thought and it was nice being around someone who didn’t get nervous about her either. He was honest.

Tyler chuckled but didn’t otherwise answer back before he stared back on his meal and steadily, they fell into idol chat. Leaving though Michael found herself mulling over the fact she had been persuaded by Tilly to go to a crew party that the ship was going to have… although 2 days away, it was not much of an appeal…. God help her now.

 

* * *

 

 

“You seriously wearing _that_?” Tilly remarked as Michael met her outside her old quarters. Tilly, Michael noted, was dressed down into very lose and casual clothing; her hair was out and bouncy, barely pulled back from her face and her face had a lot more make up than she had ever seen her with.

“Starfleet uniform is hardly going to…disrupt the party, Cadet.” She answered back. “Plus, I assume other crew members are also gonna wear their uniform.”

“You need to loosen up, Michael…”

She rolled her eyes but began to walk with Tilly, “I’m coming, aren’t I?” Though even from where she was, she could hear the music and the amount of people; the sounds of conversations and cheering; people were certainly having fun, no doubt also at a tipsy stage. Though she could make out Ash’s voice too, chatting to Landry. Interesting choice… “You’re not the one with super hearing and a taste for human blood. Lock me with a room of dunk and potentially horny humans and—”

Tilly cringed, “Okay, okay, you’ve made your point. Parties make you uncomfy and hungry. Just don’t eat anyone.” She patted her solid shoulder brazenly and took the lead out.

 

* * *

 

It was as expected when Michael entered, the beat of the music pressing against her ear drums as if the speakers were next to her head, the smells were… variant though she could pick up the hint of garlic still—she suspected Detmer was around— which probably did her the only favour of staying focused away from the fact the mass of warm human bodies and the dancing was quite alluring… there was a light tickle in her throat though at the sight. She could feel the heat too, also tempting.

“Finding someone to eat?” A voice asked behind her. The manner was teasing and it made her chuckle softly as she turned to face Ash who had broken away from Landry—who she noted stood in her uniform and focused as if she was on duty and a hawk.

“I have a little more tact, Lieutenant. Far too busy for that and _not_ get noticed.” She joked back, folding her arms.

“Please, just _Ash_ , we’re not on duty, remember.” He took a sip of his drink; the smell of vodka in it was very present with the fruit juice though her attention drifted when the lights flickered and the music died….then returned. Which was unusual, star ships had redundant power relays, they shouldn’t flicker.

“Do vampires dance?”

His question was light but it hit like with a sudden wave of déjà vu that seemed to also slow the second around her. She scraped through her memory; not sure why it felt like she had heard that question before but her impeccable memory was fine… But something was wrong. Why was something wrong?

Among the uncertainty, there was a sudden welt of panic that coursed through her body like a shiver, her fangs suddenly extending and she could feel her eyes turn black. Her posture stiffening up, still as a statue. The feeling grew in the moment. Something was wrong…. Something was _very_ wrong… what was it? They were running out of time….

“Michael? What’s wrong?” Weariness was immediately in Ash’s tone, noting her shift of demeanour and sobering up quickly. “You know I was _joking_ right?”

“We’re running out of time. We need to go to the bridge.” She didn’t wait; gut told her Ash was important. She grabbed his arm, barely hearing the hiss of pain of her grip or the calling she got from Landry—not that she was surprised she noticed her behaviour— and next to dragging him along as she increased her speed to the turbo lift.

“Use your words, Burnham! What’s happening?” Ash reasoned but she didn’t answer. She didn’t know it….she let go of his arm as soon as they were in the lift, ignoring Landry as she slipped in after them.

“What the fuck is this?” The human woman demanded of her.

Michael growled with real warning; letting the fact that they were both in a _very_ tight space _with_ her. The sound hit its mark and the woman stepped back with a silent ebb of fear but she knew they exchanged looks with each other; they knew something was wrong with her.

A stinging sensation drew her attention to her arm, but she couldn’t understand why… in an instant she shrugged off her uniform jacket to her vest and let it drop; though Ash was quick to catch it but her focus was to an obvious and new crescent mark on the outside of her forearm near her wrist. It was fresh and stood out she could still pick up a scent from it… but that only made the confusion deepen. Her fingers brushed over it, feeling the sting increase a fraction.

“I haven’t seen Paul today but his bite wound is new.” She spoke, “It’s starting to scar so it’s… an hour old...”

“What’s _wrong_ with you, Michael?” Ash asked but she turned her focus to the doors before they opened.

She darted forwards to stand in front of Lorca, watching as his brain slowly caught up with her sudden presence there and flinching; next to jumping out the chair with an increase of his heart.

“What the hell, Burnham?” He demanded, a hand to his chest but she stared at him intently.

“Something’s wrong with the ship.”

“And how do you know that?

“Gut feeling.” She answered sharply.

Captain Lorca eyed her but she held his gaze, noting how his hand flickered down to her exposed arm then turned to the turbo lift towards both Landry and Ash.

“I think we’re going to need a little more than—“

“She’s not wrong, sir.”

Michael’s head turned to see Paul striding out of Lorca’s ready room, to every one’s surprise including Lorca who rose sharply to his feet.  

“The ship is caught in a time loop. I’m sure you and Lieutenant Tyler remember a human male they were imprisoned with on that Klingon Prison ship; Hardcourt Fenton Mudd?”

There was an immediate look of recognition in the Captain’s face. Ash’s too as his heart beat picked up.

“He’s here? On my ship?”

Paul nodded. “Yes, Sir.” He moved to stand next to Michael “But Mudd has a time crystal and he’s looking to sell the ship to the Klingons, or at least the drive. We’ve been repeating the same half an hour over and over, each time Mudd has learned the ships weaknesses, the crew… me and Michael. But we’re on our _last_ cycle… he now knows _I’m_ needed for the drive to work and he has Hugh locked in an airlock to force my compliance. He has, by now taken control of the critical systems.”

Lorca’s stare was solid but nodded. “Then let’s get to business, I take it you have a plan?”

“Yes, sir.” Paul nodded.

Michael airily listened as they started their plans. Landry taking her place at a station on overriding the security to clear the system of Mudd’s interference, Airiam moving quickly to pull up data on the ships archives about this ‘Stella’ Mudd had apparently been going about and another crew on trying to get a lock on Hugh’s location. She darted to her station, trying to ignore the stinging sensation though her eyes flickered to watch as Ash started to re-wire the captain’s chair.

“Are you okay?” Paul’s voice was quiet though Michael barely glanced beside her as he came over.

“I… I have mixed emotions. I don’t like panicking without knowing why.” She muttered, her hand coming to her arm. “You bit me. I suppose that was to help draw my attention to the loops? Certainly not what I was expecting on my first human-party. Freaked Ash and Landry out. ” She’d apologise to those two later but she got them where they were needed. “Why?”

“My venom still contains Tardigrade DNA. He’s still a multi-dimensional creature. I suppose it’s an unforeseen side effects on myself. Once I realised what was happening, I thought that the bite might stay. I didn’t realise it’s give _you_ a few side effects as a result. Sorry.”

A passive sigh passed her lips but she gave him a soft look. “I understand. I suppose I did agree to it. Just stings….which is a first for me.” Nothing she had come across had penetrated her skin or caused any serious damage. Of course vampire teeth was the only thing that could break their skin to her knowledge. Made sense. “I take it Mudd had around a weakness against us?”

The look of hesitation passed briefly over his face but he nodded. “You killed him 47 times, he got the message. He has a modified gun and personal shielding now. We can’t touch him.”

The way he said it, it was clear to her mind that he had learned the hard way on it… It was logical that he remembered all of it; something to ask about once it was over.

“How many loops have we gone through?”

“About… 121 including this one.”

Her eyes widen a fraction, the math done in a heartbeat. “It’s been like this for 2 days for you?”

His silence said it all but it had her mind racing; two days of the same issue, going over and over again. He and Mudd must have been the only ones aware of it; making everything limitless, predictable and _no consequences_. She could see his eyes were a very bright ruby; a clear sign he had fed recently—perhaps even _over_ fed—and unhampered by his worry as her black eyes said… it clicked in her mind _what_ had happened in a past loop. She reached forwards, grasping his arm.

“Let’s talk, later. Okay?”

Paul nodded. “I suppose there’s no getting out of that?”

“Nope.”

A soft chuckle passed his lips before his focus turned away to the turbolift doors. Michael’s too; she could hear the lift and single human heart beast. Happy and content humming too. It disgusted her.

“15 seconds. Places people.” She called.

Immediately, people closed down the tabs on the screen, Lorca threw himself into his chair and tossed her the PADD he had been reading from, Michael moved from her station and stood waiting beside Lorca’s and Paul took her place at the science station.

Then there was silence for 10 seconds. The smell of nerves and tension was thick in the air but she felt confident with the solid plan.

Then the doors opened. Her eyes fell onto the raggy and bearded male; his appearance also looked _so_ familiar despite having never seen him before; he also stunk heavily of thick garlic that was spreading quickly around the bridge, making Landry, who was closet cough quietly and cover her nose with a few other officers. Michael pulled a face, holding her breath.

The man’s eyes flickered around but Lorca made his move, pushing himself out his chair and drawing the intruder’s attention.

“Captain Mudd.”

“What’s this?” Mudd demanded, suspicious to what she could guess was a new situation he hadn’t been face with yet. In his hand, he held a phaser; set to kill. In the other, was a heavier-duty looking one, it’s light pulsing between orange and blue and on his wrist, was a cuff that could have easily been a watch of sorts. She could see it clearly now; the inscriptions numbers ticking down so it was a count down and they were 2 minutes away before it’d either reset or end.  “What’s happening?”

Lorca moved, stepping back from his chair. Michael mimicked him, backing off towards the Helm station by a few feet, the PADD tucked under her arm.

“Your chair.”

Mudd’s eyes travelled past Lorca and straight to Paul, holding his gaze before he shook his head and pointing in his approach to the other vampire, the other gun raised. “You… You’ve been cheating.” He started, holding the weapon close to his chest. “Passing notes in class to save your friends. Well, whatever you think you’ve come up with, I’ll find a work around. I’ll keep resetting time, until I do. No one beats Mudd.” His voice next to growling that almost sounded like a threat, tingling at her gums in her desire to defend Paul.

After a moment, Michael chose to move, simply to grab his attention; his gun turning to face her quickly but she stopped still and passive. “Yes, we’re aware that with your crystal, you’re success will be a universal certainty.”

“So.” Lorca spoke up next. “For the sake and well-being of my crew, Hardcourt Fenton Mudd, the chair, the Discovery, Stamets _and_ Burnham are yours.”

The use of his full name stroked at Mudd’s ego but he didn’t look to buy so easily. “Do you really think you can conn me, Gabriel?”

“I’m negotiating with you. Mudd. I _can’t_ have a repeat of the Buran but my deal stands that the rest of the ship’s compliment are to be unharmed. By you _and_ our new…owners.” Lorca moved forwards, presenting a hand forwards to shake on it. “our word.”

Mudd eyed him warily, the debate increasing the human’s temperature then he bit; moving forwards with a pleased cackle and shook his hand vigorously. “Well I’m not the one to look a gift captain in the mouth. Yes, you have my word.” He let go and moved around the male and threw himself into the chair happily. “Computer.”

_“Working.”_

“Send our coordinates to the awaiting Klingon vessel, curtsy of Harry Mudd.”

_“Sending, Captain Mudd.”_

Mudd spun in his chair with a gleeful chuckle though he looked to his watch, slipping his phaser into his holster but his grip on the other weapon was moved to his dominant hand. Though Michael eyed it for a moment; it’s design was unique but it held a somewhat similar design to the device he had on his wrist. It had been fashioned off a phaser yet it had been made with other alien guns and technology but there was a slight uptick inside that matched in almost perfect sync. Were they connected?

_“Wrap signature’s detected.”_

“Good. I’ve never been so pleased to see those pointed headed bastards!” He jumped out his chair the beeping increasing in both weapon and watch. “Now, this is your last chance to stop me? We only have about 10 seconds until we rejoin the timeline… oh which reminds me….” After a moment he turned and fired.

Michael’s eyes widened a second before it hit, her body immediately freezing up and pain suddenly fairing from her torso, flaring up and she could feel it run deep as it spread under her skin, burning as if she was enjoying quick shots of her transformation but she couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe or talk; her senses suddenly overwhelmed with the pain but she could hear soft cracks that seemed to resonate loudly with her… unable to move as if paralysed…

In front of her, she could see the shocked faces of the crew, more so the look of horror appearing on both Ash’s and Lorca’s face… then she could feel the soft changes in her equilibrium as something inside her slipped… and she fell, her body shattering along cracks as soon as her back hit the floor and her world suddenly shrunk; almost turning into a haze….

 

* * *

 

Shocked yelps ran through the crew as a stunned silence quickly followed through the bridge, all eyes on Michael’s body between the helms stations. Her lower half from the left side of chest down was mostly intact but the most damage was to her right arm, along with her shoulder was in the most pieces and her head was halfed with one side barely attached and she lay still. Cracks lined the rest of the visible skin, her arm still attached looked to be on the verge of splitting. Under the smooth skin, the texture was solid and a sharp with a distinct grey colour.

“You didn’t need to do that.” Lorca spoke shakily, his gaze towards Michael’s shattered form.

“By the contrary, I did. Having one immortal Bastard walking around me id dangerous enough. I know what they can do. Not to mention, can’t have the Klingons prize able to run out on them… or to kill them.” Mudd shook his gun towards the lift, nodding to Paul and Lorca. “Now, you two, with me, time to meet your new masters.”

Eyes followed as they complied but the shocked expressions stayed.

Feeling his heart in his mouth, Ash found himself moving toward her as soon as the doors closed. A hand grabbed his wrist, pulling his back as he reached towards her head.

It was Saru. “No, don’t touch!”

“What do we _do_?!”

Saru looked pale but he shook his head. “I don’t know, but we need to deal with Mudd before we can help her. Stamets may know.”

Ash looked back down, but he nodded. From what he had read, he had thought vampires were impossible to break, physically at the least…but would she survive this? Rationally, he knew she _could_. She had no pulse, no internal organs that would be compromised…. She was already in a sense; dead, but could she be…put back together? Looking at the pieces, it’d certainly take a while…

“Commander Landry, head Mudd and the others off.” Saru called. The woman obediently left, pulling out her phaser as she did so and so they were forced to wait.

The others quickly getting back to their stations but Ash stared at Michael’s face, at least, both halves. A clear fluid was forming along the exposed internal edges of the crystalline of her form, a pool even starting to form under the pieces

“Computer control is back, beaming Hugh to the bridge now.” Airiam called after a couple of minutes, “Mudd’s gone.”

Within a moment, a golden light filtered into the bridge, forming quickly to the slightly dishevelled appearance of Dr Culber in his medical whites.

“What going—“ The doctor stopped, his gaze falling to Michael’s prone figure and immediately shot forwards and slupping into his doctoring mode. “Has anyone touched her?”

“No.”

“Good. The vampire internal fluids are… a little irritant to human flesh” From his pocket, he pulled out simple white gloves and put them on as he knelt next to her. “What happened?”

“She was shot with something. She cracked but didn’t…break apart until she collapsed.”

Culber eyed him for a moment at the vague answer, reached forwards to Michael’s head and carefully pressed the two halves back together, the fluid between seemed to act like a glue but there was no reaction from her. “I’ll read your report on it later. Get me a gurney and something to pick up the pieces.”

“Yes, Doc.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehe well that's certainly one way to take down a vampire lol. But I thought it was time to...humanise Micheal a little. Vampires aren't invulnerable and something might come up later. 
> 
> Alsp, I wanted to point out that Paul is special too. He may have the potential to turn people and have them able to connect with the drive too with his unique venom and side effects on being other vamps lol. 
> 
> Feel free to ask some questions :)


	15. The Cloak

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is longer than I thought It'd be but here it is. I was planning on splitting it into two chapters but, meh.  
> I hope that it doesn't seem to...rushed.

Michael sat in her quarters, reading through the most recent report on their recent mission. It had been a week since their run in with Mudd and she was still off duty to ‘recover’. By now, with the help of Stamets’s speed, she was more or less reconstructed. Her right hand was still piecing together; the shards there too small to put together but Dr Culber’s idea of letting the pieces float in a small tub of blood was working. Just slow going. The stump of her right hand, she had covered given it was still leaking fluid— now dubbed vampire-glue by Tilly— and still sharp edged.

The adjustment of using one hand was odd but quick and she had a surprising amount of visitors, especially when she had been in sickbay although at first when she was unable to move; the nerves in her head were healing back together. Detmer had paid her a silent visit, even Landry… Airiam too— though the woman had been apologetic she was asked to submit the memory of her ‘fracturing’ to Starfleet.  But Tilly and Saru were the most common ones. It had made her smile to see the flower Saru had brought. It currently lay in a glass on her desk, enjoying the light of the near star shining in.

Unfortunately, Saru, Ash and Tilly were running an away mission, on the Planet in the Pavho System. A recent mission for a frequency against the Klingons but she was glad she had been relieved; the report of the planet said there was a lot of ambient sound resonating throughout the planet that was out of the human hearing range. She felt a little pity for Saru about it.

 _“Specialist Burnham to Sickbay.”_ The computer chimed through.

Michael’s eyes lifted from the PADD. Her hand? Was it done? Tossing it to the side, Michael darted off her bed and out in a heartbeat, coming to a sharp stop outside the bay doors and paced herself as she entered, following her nose after Pollard and the strong smell of blood.

“Is my hand done?” She inquired, passing Pollard to the opaque tub resting aside the spare Bio bed. Her fingers dug into the rubber seal and lifted it to peek inside. Though, half expecting to be faced with a solid red colour, or the layers of blood that has separated, she was surprised to see her severed limb in one piece at the bottom, the fluid translucent with a hint of red. “Huh… I suppose severed vampire bits absorbed all the blood.”

Pollard chuckled, patting the bio bed for her to sit so she complied. “Most of the blood itself was absorbed but the…hand secreted more of that fluid given your body wasn’t able to regulate the absorption process.”

“Theory?”

“Little bit.”

Michael smiled and watched as the doctor pulled on some gloves and lifted her hand out, and grabbed a towel to dry it off.

“Did you know it moves independently...? Well, just a twitched every so often”

“No.” Certainly the first she heard about it. But logically, it made sense that her physiology was able to pull themselves together again after such physical trauma.

“Freaked out a nurse when he wondered what was in it… suffice to say, he’s reassigning himself to a different medical deck.” Pollard continued, then turned to face her. Michael tugged off her dressing and held out her arm, her eyes following as the end were gently lined up before it was pressed together.

The sharp pain made her hiss out, the burning sensations suddenly seared down her wrist, flaring up through her hand that made her feel like her whole hand was on fire. The nerves tingling around each crack under and over the skin layer and she could feel her throat burn a little as her body tried to compensate with reattachment.

Her fangs sharpened out within a second, clenching her jaw as the pain lingered— not at all unfamiliar given how this hurt just as much as it did with everything else they had to put together. It took a few minutes before the pain lessened enough, wiggling her fingers though it flared an ache. Not fully healed but close enough. She’d need to feed to speed up the process.

“How does it feel?”

“Hurts. It’ll pass.”

Pollard gently took her wrist, looking over the joint, her warm fingers brushing over the sealed cracks that lined her skin. “What about the cracks? Will they scar?”

“They should fade away more after each of my feeds. Longer to fade fully.” Most of the cracks in her skin were close to gone; the one down her face particularly and so far, she was making sure to feed often and to use a blood wash over the scars to be absorbed. Though the bite mark left in her arm from Paul was ever present. Good to know that vampire venom aided in leaving the scar permanent in her skin.

The doctor nodded with a smile and picked up her PADD “Feed up, I can official sign you off medical leave while you do and you can talk to Lorca for new assignments. I know you hate down-time.”

She rolled her eyes but nodded. “ _Hate_ might be a strong word but… meh, I have all the time in the world, I don’t need more.”

Waiting to collect the sign off, Michael’s attention shifted as she picked up the stray sounds of the transporter beam then to her surprise, the sound of Saru’s whined cries. She stiffened up considerably.

 _“Let’s get them to sick bay and have them checked out.”_ The voice of the transporter technician spoke.

“The team’s returned.” Michael spoke suddenly, making Pollard flinch at the sudden announcement. “But they’re coming here.” She slipped off her bio bed though and neither of them had to wait long before the away team came in, Tilly was next to dragging Saru where Culber was quick to make his appearance and pushed the Kelpien on a bio bed.

There was next to no injuries that she could sense before the doctors started their check-ups. Tilly had a scrap down her face, as did Ash but didn’t look worst for ware but Saru’s body chemistry, she could smell the increase of dopamine and adrenaline. Far higher than they should be.

“Michael,” It was Tilly that spoke, drawing her attention away. She darted over to her side, though watched as the unfamiliar doctor began to patch up the scrapes “You’re in one piece. I’m glad.”

Michael smiled softly. Though she knew her concern was merited, she’d get the rundown of it later by Tilly. “Are you okay, Tilly? I didn’t think this mission would turn into combat?”

Tilly rolled her eyes though reached forwards and grabbed ar her hand softly. “I’m fine, just… a lot of running. Kinda glad you made me do those morning runs.”

“The grazes?”

Tilly didn’t answer but she caught the blue eyes flicker passed her; to Saru. She frowned deeply. Saru did that? Her red eyed turned to Ash who looked to be purposely ‘asleep’ as Pollard worked her magic on his lip. Culber was running his own set of scans on the Kelpien but gut told her that Saru wasn’t in the mood to talk to her. She could wait.

Michael turned back to Tilly, flexing her cracked fingers in her grip, watching as Tilly traced the lines. “I never thought you could crack.”

It hadn’t been the first time Tilly has mused about that, though it made her smile softly at her concern, that that she didn’t expect less. “Neither did I. Seems it broke the idea of vampire invulnerability.”

“Hm, yeah.” Tilly agreed though rolled her head to look at her softly. “Must be weird.”

Michael shrugged, “Makes logical sense, I suppose. Harmoic resonance cracks a lot, why not my flesh too. I’m closer to a rock in a biological sense than a human so..”

“Not a rock, dear.” Tilly prodded her stomach. “but, I have to say it was…kinda awesome. I had no idea you didn’t have bones.”

Michael laughed softly. “Of course I don’t. I told you, all unnecessary mass, such as internal organs, flesh and muscle are constructed into the same crystalline material. Bone too.”

Tilly shrugged, “I see that now, Michael. Your body still holds the shape of them. But the inside bit wasn’t what I was expecting.”

“Which was?” Her tone remaining light in her inquire to the cadet. She hadn’t thought about what she looked like under the skin and it never occurred to her, _before_ it was been about her unable to have things penetrate her skin, even if she has been curious; there had been no way to know.  

Tilly shrugged, twisting her wrist around. “Sort of… a hard red mess. The grey threw me off… and the lack of bones or…any blood If I’m honest. Don’t you store blood in our stomach?”

“My stomach already processed it, why do you think there was so much…fluid.”

“You mean _vampire glue._ ”

“Only _you_ are calling it that.”

“No one’s come up with a good name for it.”

“It’s biological function, not a thing that needs a name.”

Tilly let go and gave her a playful look but a cough drew her attention. Her eyes turning to Hugh, standing a few feet away.

“Why don’t you give Cadet Tilly some space, Burnham? It’s been a long mission and she needs her rest.”

Michael recognised the dismissal and nodded, slipping her hand easily from Tilly patted her leg. “See you later.”

Tilly smiled softly and nodded.

“Don’t forget to eat!” Pollard called after her.

 

* * *

 

 

Michael did comply, mostly. Ending up in the Mess though she was fairly flicking through her mind on what she could order with a frown. A few came to mind but she felt no appeal to them…even though it’d do it’s job. Replicated blood’s own natural fault. Variety was standard. At least with each human, it was different… wasn't like she was come up with recipes.

“Specialist Burnham?” Her attention moved away, though she felt surprised to see Detmer hovering not too far at a table to the left of her, though she couldn’t help but notice the lack of garlic clove on her.

“Lieutenant Detmer, It’s…good to see you.” Michael greeted, turning her focus back to her replicator for a moment then just pressed the button for a random selection. Why not another surprise?

“Are you busy?”

Michael shook her head. “No, just returned from sickbay. I’ll be on the bridge in the next hour. Did you want to talk?”

Detmer glanced to her hand though nodded softly with a nervous inhale. “I just… wanted to apologise. On how I’ve treated you since you’ve come on board.”

Michael’s eyes moved from the replicator, eyeing her crew mate softly. Surprising and welcoming but yet, getting an apology _from_ Detmer…it felt undeserved. Simple fact that _she_ had done much worse to her than simply being distanced from. The Shenzhou, Georgiou…the loss and toll it had; the augmentation of her eye and cranial implant said it all.

“You do not need to apologise, Keyla. But thank you.” The replicator beeped once and opened and she collected the bottle from it but turned to face Detmer with a soft expression. “I’m the one that should be sorry. I have not…made any attempt to make up for what I did to you or any of the Shenzhou crew that were drafted into this ship…apart from Commander Saru.” Even then, not too easy. “I am sorry, Keyla. I know that before you had big ambitions to serve longer under Captain Georgiou and I robed you of that.”

Detmer’s eyes looked away and nodded, to which Michael hoped was the silent acceptance of her apology. “You did.” Her lips pursed tightly, “but, from looking at a new perspective, I feel that being distant and hostile with each other would not be what she wanted.”

That statement run deep with a clear ounce of truth, as hurt as Philippa had been, she had been a compassionate soul. One that, despite everything, would want them to rekindle a new friendship. Different now but something. Though Michael’s thought caught onto a phrase that stood out further.

“New perspective?”

A tint tinged at Keyla’s cheeks and she looked away. “I… I saw you in sickbay. After Mudd… shot you.”

“Ah.” Her memory was clear to recall the visit. The paralysis had not been fun but her head and brain were still fusing back together on her arrival… she had no doubt looked a mess, dressed down into shorts and a strapless bra as they started to put her back together, one bit at a time. Certainly painted a picture but she’d never figure it’d cause anyone to rethink their perspective on her.

“I judged you a little too harshly, especially on what you became. I thought that…you were cold-hearted and..”

“Creepy?” Michael input though hummed in agreement but it made Keyla’s lip twitch. “Tilly thought the same. You’re not the only one.”

Keyla’s posture loosened up and smiled more. “Still, I was holding onto a lot of resentment. Time to let go, right?” She held her hand out

Her head inclined softly to a nod though eyed her hand softly for a moment, swapping her grip on her bottle and gently reached forwards and shook her hand, feeling the slight recoil as Keyla’s hot flesh met her ice cold one.

“Never going to get used to that.” She laughed softly. “You’re freezing!”

Michel let go with a chuckle. “Thank you, Keyla.”

_“Lieutenant Detmer to the bridge.”_

Keyla sighed heavily, “See you later, Michael.” She smiled then walked away at a brisk pace though Michael watched her leave with a smile, feeling like a small weight had been lifted from her shoulders, one she didn’t know she had…

 

* * *

 

_“Specialist Burnham, to the bridge.”_

Michael suppressed a smile as it called overhead. Mostly on the fact she was already in the turbo lift up to the bridge. With the mission complete, she was expecting to get to it to refine the frequencies for sensor use.  Might prove a good challenge but she was well up for it.

The doors pinged open a second after the call before she stepped out and darted to her station.

“That’s quick, even for you.” Lorca mused, his eyebrow raising.

Michael smiled, “I was already on my way. I thought to get started on the transmission frequencies. I heard from Tilly that the Pavhons repaired the computer and send the transmission.”

“Hm.” The tone immediately drew her attention from her station. It was displeased. Not a good sign.

“Sir?” Clearly, it took a fraction of the moment to put together the fact; it hadn’t been successful. Looking around, there was a tense atmosphere around her she hadn’t paid attention to. Tyler was at Landry’s tactical station and even Saru was back on duty, though she could feel the Kelpien’s mood was low and quiet. Shouldn’t he still be resting?

“The mission to Pavho wasn’t a success. The harmony of the planet has changed, its music is gone and broadcasting a signal to two sub space channels. Federations and Klingon.”

Her eyebrows drew in tightly. Confused. Why would the species try and contact the Klingons? Her head turned to Saru sharply though he looked away, abashed. She could clearly see it was a death sentence to the entire planet; how it’d look to the Klingons that… this planet was on their side. Making them an enemy. There was no defence over the planet. All too easy for a ship to trigger a chain reaction to burn off its atmosphere and to destroy the spire. They were the only defence. They couldn’t leave the planet this venerable to the mercy of the Klingons. War or not, Starfleet still had principles.

“What are our options? We cannot abandoned this planet.” She asked, sinking into a formal position.

Lorca’s head inclined but with no solid sound of agreement. “Given the advances of the war, we cannot afford the diversion of further fleets here. But one Klingon ship has answered their call and will be here in just over two hours.”

“The Sarcophagus, Ship of the dead.” Tyler informed behind her.

“I know it. The Shenzhou ran into it which started the war. T’Kuvma’s flag ship before General Kol took it from his house.” Michael informed, her glance lowering at the reminder. This was the ship where Philippa died. It tightened a knot in her gut. A ship she’d never see again. “Either way, it’s a powerful ship and a lot of fire power.”

“Enough for Starfleet command to pull us out of the fight if we call it in.” Lorca pushed himself out his chair, puffing up his chest in a heavy inhaled.

Her eyes narrowed a fraction though his implication rang clear. They weren’t calling it in. They were going against any potential orders.

“Sir?” Saru questioned this time, moving around his station.

Lorca turned to face him. “Command has demanded an update. We’ve fortunately masked the Pavho signature from the rest of Starfleet but it mean’s well be fighting alone. We have a spore drive. The Klingons do not so we have a much bigger chance at survival than any other Starfleet vessel. I’d rather not advertise anything to either side.”

“What did you tell them?”

“The mission is still ongoing but the spore drive has…experienced difficulties regarding Lieutenant Stamets, which remind me,” He moved around his captain’s chair. “Stamets, I know you can hear me so go to Dr Culber, have some tests run. I want a data trail made for good reasoning to why we won’t jump when the mission is… complete.”

“That gives us approximately two hours before the Klingons arrive.”

“So, we need to think of something fast because this isn’t a fight we lose. Get to it.”

“Aye, Sir.”

 

* * *

 

 

“What we’re looking at could work, but to speed up the process, you’d need to gather flash reading from all angles. We’d be shot to smithereens before we try to fly around it.” Tilly corrected as they worked the simulation.

“The spore drive could do that for us. Micro jumps over the vectors. A 3D snap shot. It’d take… perhaps 10 minutes for the computer to complete the data to a useful algorithm.” Michael mused, her fingers running around the holographic image of the Klingon ship.

“True but this amount of jumps, Stamets may be good but this could a lot of strain for him.”

“He’s a vampire, I’m sure he can handle it.”

Tilly gave her a look, pursing her lips. “I’m just saying, vampires were considered indestructible until Mudd shot and shattered you, Michael.”

“You think the stress of the jumps might…shatter him?”

“I’d rather not find out but…” she paused, looking around for a moment, “He did mention something like a headache yesterday.”

Michael sighed, “It’s probably nothing that drastic, Tilly.”

Tilly shrugged. “Just keep it in mind, Michael.” Her focus returning back to the simulation.

“So,” Saru spoke up, drawing them back to the matter at hand. “If we place sensors down, we’ll need a boarding party?”

“Boarding Party?” Lorca’s voice carried as he exited swiftly from his ready room. “I take it you’ve got something? We’re 40 minutes away until the Klingons get here and another 10 before Starfleet command gets word of it. Klingons aren’t subtle.”

Saru nodded, taking the lead. “So far we’ve established that the Klingons cloak by distorting gravity fields around themselves, rendering the ship invisible to the sensors. Light is also reflected around.”

“It’s why I won’t be able to see them either, even with my heightened vision.” Michael added, reflecting the station screen onto the ship screen for all to see. “But it had faults. Its shields are down and weapons can’t be fired because of the bubble around the ship when it’s cloaked. Power needed for the distortions and the fact that the disruptions would cause major failures to their system. Their ability to Warp is not effected when cloaked.”

“nd the solution.”

“We can isolate the faults and build an algorithm to break the cloak entirely. By installing sensors on the ship itself, it can transmit the data back to discovery.”

“And that’s why you need a boarding party.” A tightness stiffened Lorca’s jaw and posture.

“Yes, but that’s only one problem. We know that to collect the data, the ship would need to be idol for…days. We don’t have that but Michael suggested to use the spore drive.” Tilly spoke up, “Build the snap shots of data externally with the sensors than wait and let the sensor document the whole ship’s cloaking frequency and risk it being found.”

Lorca’s eyebrow rose sharply, though his attention was fully caught with it. “I see…. That could work.”

“So, to efficiently place the sensors down. It’d need to be covertly. As I don’t possess a life sign and with my advanced speed and knowledge of the Klingon language and ship’s layout of my previous visit, I should be the one to board the ship.”

Lorca’s excited look vanished, replaced quickly with a shrewd expression. “ _You_? No, it’s far too dangerous”

Michael’ eyes narrowed. Did he honestly think the Klingons stood any chance against her? “Hardly, Sir.” She darted around her team and stopped behind him and folded her arms. The movement making the captain flinch. “I am one of the top predators in this world. I can easily take down Discovery within 15 minutes. A Klingon ship… there won’t be much difference. They won’t know what I am. I can’t be outrun nor fought by comparison.”

“Wait, you can take _out_ this ship?” This was Tyler, a note of surprise in his tone.

Michael nodded. “Wouldn’t be too hard. Metal doors can be ripped down easily, not to mention the Jeffries tubes go everywhere, breaking vitals bones can take a fraction of a second to achieve. Five necks in one second.”

“That’s comforting to know.” Tyler sat back then chuckled. “Remind me to never piss you off.”

Lorca sighed heavily but nodded tightly after a moment, his hand coming to run at his temple, “Okay, you’ve made your point. Will you need someone else to accompany you?”

The vampire shook her head swiftly. That wouldn’t end well. “Ideally no. I…wouldn’t want to accidentally kill them.”

If it was possible, Lorca looked even more displeased, his cheeks flushing and she could feel the resistance going on within him but she had solid logic behind her that even he couldn’t refuse though she couldn’t see why he didn’t want her to make such an impression. Was he attempting to pull strings to keep her safe for something? She was not a fool to allow that to happen again.

“you have 40 minutes to build the sensors and get into position.”

“Yes, Sir.” Though she felt the smile stay on her lips, moving with Saru and Tilly.

 

* * *

 

Michael crouched on the transporter pad, waiting now for her move, her fingers curled around the bag’s handles.

“Now, remember, don’t kill anyone until the cloak is up.” Landry spoke calmly, running over a few last minute notes. “We should be able to maintain contact you still but your communications out might be picked up by their sensors so don’t contact us unless you need an emergency beam out.”

“Dually noted, commander.” She answered back.

“Another thing, since you don’t have a life sign to lock onto with our transporter once you’re there, keep the communicator on you.”

Michael sighed, though the ship shook, the light turning red. Landry was quick to move to the stations and shadowed the technician.

“Go.”

Light clouded her vision, though she felt the shiver as it clouded every sense, muffling the sensation in her body….then it returned, the gold dissipating around her but she felt her body react as soon as she felt the rest of her form; nope. Did not like transporters. She clenched her teeth together but shook herself from that for now. She had a mission to do.

Michael listened out. Steps heavy boots, clinks of heavy armour and blades, deep voices of Klingons echoed all around her. A lot of Klingons. But that would hardly stop her in a rampage. Her fingers tugged out her PADD and flicker it up, allowing it to take a moment to load up the necessary schematics. Her eyes finding the location of the the first sensor point then stuffed it away.

Hearing no immediate Klingons, Michael made her move. The hallways were tightly interlocked but easy to follow, unlike Discovery, it wasn’t as identical. Different consoles and designs seemed to set each corridor aside from each other, the smells too. Rotting flesh though seemed to be the most compelling smell to her nose, slipping into a side room that was dark and unloaded the first sensor, setting it up and pressed it’s on button.

 _‘Link to discovery established’_ it spoke out to her, in the usual female voice though she hissed quietly. A voice reply? On a _convert_ operation? She eyes the first one for a moment, though couldn’t see anything that’d lower the volume. She’d had to prey and hope to hell that it didn’t alert anyone on the bridge on the second time around.

Michael moved again but a new scent seemed to catch her attention. It wasn’t Klingon. But the smell was fresh. Alive. A human. A human scent she knew. Getting to mission was her mission but she couldn’t allow to pass this chance up… what state was she in?

Michael followed her nose, pausing a moment as the scent seemed to dissipate for a moment, turning on the spot, sniffing carefully until she caught it again, leading from a door. She looked around her, then to the console.

Breaking it would be easy, but someone would be bound to pick up the signal of a damaged console. Her fingers touched down the smooth metal, to the crack between and dug her fingers into the metal. To her surprise, it was much softer than she thought it’d be. The metal groaned quietly, exerting more force until her hands were between the metal, then pushed the two doors apart. They slid easily and she slipped inside, letting the doors close after. No alarms rang, no voiced of an alarmed Klingon rose either…

The human scent was strong, though her eyes washed about until they fell onto the slumped form of Admiral Cornwell.

 

* * *

 

Michael watched the woman’s body for a long moment. Taking in the sight of the cell and the body in it. The body wasn’t dead, but she could smell the decay that lingered in the scent but she knew who it was immediately.

Of course, it was _this_ ship… Kol had no doubt ordered her to be here after Lorca’s capture… a prison ship was no place for the admiral when the flag ship was the best option of a prisoner of grand value. Certainly not what she looked like now.

Cornwell lay in a pool of her own blood, it seemed. The smell was stale and hung heavy in the air and it ticked the thirst in her throat nonetheless. The dried stains on the floor showed she had more than a few visitors since it’s spill too. Cornwell was on her side, her skin deathly pale and the weight loss seemed to make it look like she had shrunk. Along her neck, she could see a few scars, no doubt forcibly hydrated by the Klingon version of the hypospray. Red blood turned the blue of her uniform an almost brown colour, darkest at her back.

The vampire found herself approaching carefully, her fangs extending in her mouth but she held back her more primal urges; Cornwell was still alive and she had to make sure she stayed that way. She crouched down softly, shifting her weight down onto her hands and lent forwards, sniffing carefully. The smell of decay was clearly coming from her. She was dying. Slowly. Michael could only assume internal and untreated injuries were resulting in her organ failure. Starved of blood, they died, now were slowly rotting. Hardly a good way to go.

Carefully, she reached forwards and gently rolled her onto her back, though her body twisted in a way that made her quickly support her lower back in the turn, a sudden and sharp gasp leaving Cornwell’s lips, arousing a soft jerk of her upper body; yet her legs remained unmoving. Was she paralyzed? Michael didn’t know but she shifted her hand under her jacket and shirt, sliding up the wet, blood-slick skin of her spine but her fingertips met the source of the problem.

“Oh Admiral…” She could feel the bone shift a fraction and the line of a healed scar; healed enough to stop her bleeding out or dying prematurely, crippling her purposely was the logical conclusion. But given she wasn’t in a burial chamber, they weren’t anticipating her dying so soon.

“Ah…” The sound was a soft rasp, ratting in the human’s lings though she twitched again follow by a painted groan.

“Admiral.” Michael’s hands moved from her back, moving to cup the older woman’s face in her cold, stony palms, though she noted the blood she accidentally smeared but it was nothing. It’d allow her cold skin rouse Cornwell more to the conscious world. Apart from the sensors and her communicator, she had no medical kit--hadn't needed it. Even if it was clear Admiral Cornwell was clearly _past_ medical help at this point. Killing her now would surely be a mercy for her.

It took a second though the woman’s eyes flickered with a lot of effort

“I’m Specialist Burnham, I need you to concentrate on my voice and the feel my hands? Try and use that as mental grounding. You’re not in a good way.” She spoke clearly to her but it certainly drew more focus before the admiral’s eyes flickered open, her gaze hazy and unfocused though this was enough.

“B..Burnham..?” Her voice was slightly slurred but there was a note of relief that underlined her voice. Mumbling something else but even with her hearing, it didn’t make sense.

“Sorry?”

The Admiral’s eyes dropped but she licked her lips. “Tu…turn m.. me.” Her eyes sliding shut, a wince running through her face. “I… I don..t want...want to…die….turn me…please…..” falling back into unconsciousness

Michael’s eyes widened. The request was unexpected. Certainly her only other option but she had her immediate doubts…. She had never turned someone by biting them. She had no access to a hypospray to do it for her; she could feel the temptation to bite and kill her but how could she stop after tasting her blood so direct? The last time she had fed from a person was after she woke; she killed them.

Her hands moved away from Cornwell’s face,, though she found herself assessing this… she had to try, after all, the request could easily be an order. Either way, if she did resist draining her, Admiral Cornwell had a chance to live another day. If not, well, she was going to die within the next few minutes anyway.

Her tongue washed over her fangs, coating them in a fresh layer of venom. It’s certainly take more than one bite to spread fast enough in time… mentally steering herself before taking a deep breath; the smell of decay immediately helping as a distraction as she leant down, her fingers pushing open her uniform jacket and moved her head further aside. She could clearly make out the series of throbbing veins under her skin; an alluring sight didn’t help.

The warmth seemed to press against her skin before she opened her mouth and bit down into the soft and delicate skin, sinking in like butter and was immediately met with a delicious flow that immediately triggered the feeding instinct, lapping almost immediately but she fought to keep her rational mind—she _had_ to control herself— her grip tightening before she forced herself away from her throat; she could do this… just needed to be quick.

With that mentality, she bit down again into the other side of her neck then down; shoulder, wrist, thigh and ankle, biting through the blue fabrics of the uniform but pushed herself away, the thirst for more craving at almost all her instincts. The human’s blood tainting her pallet and her lips.. that was much better than the replicated stuff; fresh and unique… she could feel the warmth of it linger too… Her hand came to grip tightly on the pillar…

Michael exhaled sharply…swallowing thickly the remnants of her blood as she sat back. It was done. Under her fingers, the metal warped in her grip, bending like clay but she used that to ground herself a little more rationally. After a shallow breath and a few minutes, she felt better. Controlled.

Turning gaze to Cornwell, she could see the bite marks started to heal up; sealing the venom in… a good sign; she was way away from fine. But Michael knew she had time before she’d have to move her safely; with this damage, the venom was still setting in; she couldn’t risk taking her to the bridge. If she screamed out… that’s expose her. If she screamed here, she would hardly catch notice.

“Admiral. I’m uncertain if you can hear me but I’m leaving you here for now, I’ll be back soon and Discovery will pull us out.” She didn’t wait for the response; there wouldn’t be one and whizzed away.

* * *

Slipping throughout the corridors, Micheal remained unseen as she sliding to a silent stop along behind a pillar.

All around her, new sounds filtered through her ears more intensely; thick heavy hearts thudding under thick material; much more tempting than a small human heart, steps echoing across the metal and the swishes of fabrics as they moved. Scents were strong, like presume. Meat eaters by nature and it reflected in their blood; potent and delicious…. Thoughts she knew would have never crossed her mind before but… well, she was on top of the food chain and had an axe to grind. She could feel guilty on what she would do later.

Flipping open the bag, she pulled the sensor out and carefully flicked the buttons.

 _‘Connection to Discovery established’_ the voice replied, quietly and she couldn’t hear any Klingons notice. Now, she had to wait for Discovery to get them to cloak.

She could feel the Klingons anticipation in the air, their words gruff as they spoke their native tongue but she was glad that her time spent in her quarters had been well spent in learning Klingon. She’d have to thank Saru for the disciplinary. Certainly gave her the edge now without the use of her translator…

 _“What is it doing?”_ Came the Klingon reply, a voice she could tell was the leader, Kol?

_“My lord, the Federation vessel has vanished!”_

The whole ship gave a lurch, her hand came out to steady the sensor as it risked topping but it stayed.

_“So **this** is Discovery’s fabled power…”_

The ship shook again, from her pillar, Michael could clearly see them grabbing onto the sides but she knew what was coming.

_“Cloak us at once.”_

A smile drew on her lips, her fangs peeking out from under her lips. Right on time. Looking around, Michael counted the heads on the bridge, including Kol, 14. She could estimate 69 more Klingons in the ships belly. Much higher than anticipated, not all she’d need to kill. Just the bridge crew; taking out their ability to turn off the cloak and to get away. They wouldn’t settle and allow themselves to be played by Starfleet.

Pulling out the communicator from her pocket, she could see they had 108 remaining now, counting down quickly but not quick enough. Feeling confident now that there was enough time, Michael darted around to the other side to the other Pillar to cover her exit— she didn’t need to expose the sensor by accident.

The breeze made a close Klingon look around, a frown appearing in his face, deepening the ridges on his forehead furthermore as he looked around but she crouched out of sight. His steps echoing as he moved back. Her eyes followed his shadow. A curious one. Interesting.

She stayed still as he moved closer but growled softly, his senses picking it up that tingled the air of anxiety; he knew something was wrong… until he saw her. Michael met his gaze, watching as his eyes widened but his hand went for his Mek’leth but in a moment, she darted forwards. His neck like a toothpick that seemed to snap with incredible ease; his muscles giving under her fingers; a quick death before he knew it. The Snap sound echoing but she gave no warning before she tossed the warm corpse out to the middle of the desk to the surprise of the crew.

 _“General Kol, I think it’s time we have a little chat.”_ She called out in Klingon stepping around the pillar and watched as all of bridge crew aired their weapons at her as they realized what was happening.

Her eyes were only to the leader.  He was a pale grey, his head shaved like all the other but with his clothes said it all, as well as the red paint down his face in two lines that he was in charge. But like the others, he was by nature, inferior to her. The only favour his skin had, that it wasn’t nearly so translucent as humans, she couldn’t quite see the same pulse of his veins.

 _“You speak Klingon?”_ Kol demanded, almost affronted but there was a mild not of curiosity.

Michael nodded, her lips closed as she slowly made herself in perfect sight of them all, stepping over the body of the Klingon she had killed. _“I got bored one evening. Picked up a new skill, thought it must come in handy when you break into a Klingon ship and kill a few.”_

Kol growled, though she could feel him eye her up, judging her but she could read the caution in his gaze; she was small, he knew that humans eyes didn’t come in a shade in red or sharp specific teeth or give out a feeling that something was…different. Dangerous. That they should be cautious. Their senses much more produced than humans so… she knew he’d take her very seriously.

_“You are not human?”_

_“No, not anymore”_ She flashed her fangs, earning a wave of discomfort on the crowd and their nervous looks. Certainly not a sight she’d thought she’d see… especially because of her.

Kol’s fingers flexed on a glitter of gold, her attention flickering to it but she recognised the shape immediately, the small insignia clear as crystal but it was scratched and blemished but she knew who it belonged to… she certainly wasn’t going to leave without it.  

_“Why are you here, non-human?”_

_“ **Vampire** , please. Be polite.”_ Michael knew she sounded cocky, the sense of the building of anticipation was growing as well as the restlessness. _“Give me that badge.”_

Despite better judgment, this caused the Klingon to laugh out a scoff, his fingers fiddling with it before holding it up as if she couldn’t see what it was. _“You came for **this**? It’s a useful object to pick my teeth.”_

A low growl echoed but she darted forwards at her advanced speed, and with a single bound jumped onto the edge of the balcony in front of him baring her fangs and her hand locking his wrist in a stone vice grip.

_“I told you to give it me.”_

It took a moment for his brain, as well as everyone else’s to pick up where she was, a growl of pain hissing from his teeth before he tried to shove her off but she was far too strong and instead pulled him effortlessly closer with another warning growl, watching as his pupils constricted as the wash of fear tainted his system. There was a twitch of their guns but she wasn’t scared of them. Wary but not scared.

 _“If you fire your weapons, I’m fast enough to put General Kol in the way and to kill all 14 of you in the room. That leaves me with 3 seconds and you’re all dead before you know which direction to put them.”_ Her tone was cool, her point was made.

General Kol debated for a long second then raised his spare hand at a silent order and the guns lowered. Michael sweetly smiled then took the metal badge from his hand then slipped around to his side of the overseeing bride.

_“Now, I-“_

A sudden flash of green caught her attention, then a sudden burning sensation at the base of her spine, an angry hiss whistling passed her lips as her hand came to her new injury, the shirt was burned through but she could feel the burnt sensation with a purple smoke that rose with a heavy sickly sweet smell like perfume from her burned flesh; though the skin wasn’t broken, it was still lightly burned and she could feel the fluid building up to start the healing process but she felt her eyes darken to black….

Then she turned and snapped.

 

* * *

 

Minutes passed, or was it seconds, Michael couldn’t tell as she sat on the banister overlooking the bridge, her feet dangling as she observed the bodies that now nestles around her, some torn up, some with simple broken necks, some drained— the blood much tastier than she had smelt that had triggered a feeding frenzy— and none of the Klingons on the bridge or near it were alive.

Kol was dead too, slumped over by the window with had his throat torn out from her teeth. The one who had shot her was in many areas of the bridge too….

Now, she felt conflicted. She knew she was going to kill them, knew she would if provoked or threatened. Now that she had, now that she could feel the cool blood on her skin, tasted it on her tongue and recalled the feeling of their flesh giving under her teeth and hands…. She didn’t know how to feel.

Her nature and nurture seemed to be at odds. She enjoyed it and would probably do so again without hesitation. She didn’t feel sorry for them. But yet, Michael knew she should. That this murder was not who she was as a member of Starfleet. Being a vampire was one thing, and being a Starfleet officer, or on her case—a member was another. The fact that the blood replicator was made specifically for her kind. A more modern and less homicidal method that would still allow her to be more civilised with humans.

A low groan seemed to echo, Michael’s head rose before she darted to follow it, a vivid reminder of who else was on board, kneeling down next to Cornwell within a few seconds later. Her fingers tilting her head, getting a better look to the marks along Cornwell’s neck, though it relieved her to see they were healing up. She had become more responsive; the venom kicking in faster as her heartrate picked up. It must have reached her heart.

 _“We have a lock on you, Burnham. Prepare for transport.”_ Landry’s voice called through

“I have a human with me, prepare to transport her too.  Can you detect anyone in my range?” She could hear a thudding heart close by, stationary but it sparked and idea.

_“Er.. we do have a Klingon life sign in range. Why?”_

“Bring it aboard, directly into the brig. We could do with the Intel it has before the ship is blown to hell.”

_“Yes, Specialist, Burnham.”_

 Her vision once again clouding with gold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> much longer, as I said and covered most of the ep, sooo looking forwards to the MU!! hehe
> 
> turning Cornwell will be necessary for later, you'll see why lol and I really wanted Micheal to be on good terms with Detmer again. 
> 
> I hope the pace wasn't too rushed, as I said though feel free to comment and let me know :)  
> I love reading them.


	16. The Jump

“—I have also received word that Admiral Cornell’s medical shuttle has arrived at it’s intended location. Commander Landry has opted to stay to advise the teams on how to handle a…new born while she’s there given how she’s worked closely with Michael Burnham.”

“New-born?”

“An abbreviation of a new vampire. It's been adopted quickly.”

Lorca hummed, pacing around his office as Admiral Terral continued his debrief though he felt the whole thing a little tedious. Especially given how closely they were watching him. He was just surprised now Saru wasn’t here to listen in. “I did suggest Admiral complete her transformation on Discovery. With Michael and Stamets on board, handling her would be no issue.”

“It was taken into consideration but we’ve developed a facility designed for vampires since Burnham’s own transformation and data taken from Lieutenant Stamets’s transformation.” Terral’s face expressed no indication of opinion; that it really didn’t matter to him.

Logically, to Lorca’s eyes, having her here was the most ideal place. With people of her own kind. Michael had handed Stamets well. Another would hardly be a stretch. Not to mention, it was said Cornwell was her responsibility given she had turned her. Unless that was revoked under a new regulation.

“How far along is she?”

“From data suggests, 38%. About a further 27 hours before the change is complete but there are more pressing matters to be discussed, Captain.”

Lorca nodded. “Well, pass along my bests anyway.” Though 27 hours was a long time; he was not looking forwards to the conversation after with her. She hadn’t been happy with him even after their long meetings before the Klingons took them. “Now, we’re currently refining the cloak-breaking algorithm and should be ready for fleet-wise use within the…next 8 hours.” On his PADD, he had the system running the time; it was a lot of information, some of it redundant and it also needed to be compressed to be sent to Starbase 1 and to every ship in the fleet.

“Sooner the better. There is reports of cloaked vessels approaching Federation boarders and your ship. Our ships are sitting blind. The war is not won yet.”

“I understand that.”

“Good. Your methods of acquiring the code has been…unorthodox but effective. Starfleet is willing to overlook the insubordination against the restrictions we had in place after your…conference prior to yours and Cornwell’s capture. But with the code, we have an increased likely hood of our chances. Your achievements has been noted and Starfleet command will awarded you with a Legion of Honour.” Terral continued passively, “Discovery needs to return to safety so return to Star base 46. I look forwards to congratulating you in person.”

Within a few moments, the connection died. Lorca sighed heavily as he picked up another fortune cookie. The admiral’s attitude was expected but now Starfleet felt…irrelevant.

Michael has suggested the micro-jumps, saved him from suggesting such an idea to Stamets. Filling in all the necessary data he needed now to get home. He could wait, see the end of this War. But that held risk… A risk he wasn’t sure he wanted to take now he had his chance.

Beside him on another PADD, was the medical report on Stamets. The jumps had has its toll on the vampire. Micro fractures had started within his head— which explained the man’s head aches— but now, after the jumps, they had been visible down his face. He had heard from Culber that the cracks were gone with his feedings. A jump, another jump could pose risk to him too but…vampires would be put together. As Michael had. The risk was worth it.

It had to be.

 

* * *

 

Michael lay on her bed, staring up to the ceiling. She had cleaned up now, dressed down in her uniform pants and tank top but she felt the internal turmoil of her actions still. If Cornwell has stayed, that would have offered her the necessary distraction of her thoughts.

Checking how far the change was going, trying to make her comfortable, wondering when her spine fixed; the crack would be a clear tell-tale sign. She herself could remember vividly of her spine being broken, then how it was repaired. Hardly pleasant but the pain was less in comparison to the change. She was probably conscious and screaming in her head….

Michael exhaled out sharply, trying not to picture the admiral in such a state like that. Not what she needed…

The door chimed.

Michael pursed her lips before sitting up and crossed her legs. “Come.”

Outside stood Ash Tyler. Nervous; she could hear his heart beat more elevated and could see the flush in his skin to the prickles of sweat. He otherwise wore a passive expression as he stepped in yet it hung around him like shadow.

“I’m…not disturbing you, am I?”

Michael shook her head, offering him a relaxed expression though nodded him closer. “No just…dwelling alone with my thoughts.”

Ash moved closer in, his eyes flickering around for a moment, looking to mentally debate where to sit or stand. Michael darted off the bed and patted the sofa space next to her. It took him a moment but he chuckled softly and sat. His knee brushing against hers but she kept her gaze to his face.

“Are you okay, Ash?” she could feel her concern for him, he didn’t usually get this nervous. Had something come up?

Ash looked away but nodded tightly. “It’s…nothing.”

“Which, from what I can translate from my time with Tilly, means it’s everything.” Michael started. “I’m open to listen, Ash, if you’re willing to talk.” She wouldn’t push him of course, it seemed…personal. If she was honest, she hadn’t seen him like this before. He had always been collected and fine, despite everything. What had shaken him?

Ash continued to look away, a deeper flush rising up his neck. “She.. the Klingon prisoner beamed on board…I know her.”

Michael said nothing though her eyebrows rose in surprise… though it quickly dawned on her. “I’m sorry.” He had been a victim of torture at the hands of the Klingons. Until then, he had stayed away from Klingons, away from the trauma… now she had invited one onto the ship. With Landry gone with Cornwell, and his current position of chief of security, it was logical sense that He’d oversee the Klingons transfer to the brig. That Klingon was a trigger for him. She had been so thoughtless…

Ash shook his head. “No…I don’t want pity. She’s here for a purpose. I won’t let my…personal experiences get in the way of my duty.”

Michael slowly reach forwards and grasped his warm wrist in a reassuring matter, “Not with her, Ash. I can smell how your body reacts; you’re scared. You can assign a tactical officer to oversee her, anyone would understand.”

Again, Ash shook his head and rose to his feet, slipping his hand free of hers. Michael didn’t move though watched as he started to pace. “I don’t want to talk about her, Michael. Please…just don’t push that. I...I don’t think I can talk about it.” His voice tightened, his hands clenching and his breath more ragged.

Michael looked away, moving to her bed again. It was raw, clearly to him. Perhaps he had come directly from the brig. It’s easily explain it. He also didn’t come to fight about it either so it was logical to move on.

“I take it you came to see me for a reason, Ash?” She mused.

Ash nodded, turning to the chairs before he realised she had moved, turning again. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” She offered him a slight smile to assure him. He shouldn’t feel guilty on this. “What did you want?”

Ash moved forwards, exhaling heavily as his hand came to wipe away the sweat though he hesitated as he got to the foot of the bed. Her hand patted lightly over the top cover to sit. Sighing heavily, he plonked himself down, leaning his elbows into his knees.

“I..I came to see you. See how…you were doing.”

Michael looked away, his concern touching her deeply. Not that he wasn’t the first, Tilly had come by earlier with complaints of missing her still and begging her to stay a night over. Saru had never said they could move back though Michael had the hunch the Kelpien had forgotten about it entirely. But he was the first human to see her since coming back.

“I’m…in constant physical health. Turns out, Klingon blood is much more satisfying than I thought. Plus, almost all scars of my previous injuries has healed, so has the burn so…. No long term harm.” The skin was a little discoloured to grey but nothing that wouldn’t correct itself in time.

“Everyone is celebrating, Tilly tried to suggest a party and has a small gathering in Mess hall.” He straightened up as he spoke, chuckling. “I sometimes wonder if she’s capable of starting cult. She can be _very_ persuasive.”

“Hm, I know.” Michael signed. “She’s persuaded me to stop over one night, for old time sake. I might just stand over her and freak her out...”

“Huh?”

“Nothing. Something she said about when I first moved in and she didn’t known then” She bushed it off quickly.

Ash hummed, his head turning to look at her though she held his gaze, his dark eyes assessing her but she didn’t know what he was looking for. “How are you feeling about…the whole Klingon thing? You’ve hidden yourself away since you got back. Stamets wondered where you went.”

Michael shrugged, the gesture feeling odd, perhaps a little redundant but it displayed her noncommittal answer.

Ash shifted to face her. “You don’t have to answer this but… is it also about turning Admiral Cornwell too or…just the Klingons?”

 Michael shook her head. “No, not Cornwell. She asked, I complied. She’ll live to fight another day.” It was the fact that she wanted to kill her too…the desire to feed and to hell with Cornwell’s life. Something she knew she’d regret later on if she had.

“But?” His tone was soft for the probe to continue, still inviting her to turn away his questioning but…something about him made It easier to talk to than the others. Like Tilly, he was willing to listen without judging her…

“I killed 15 Klingons within a matter of seconds. I fed from them too. You’d think that was the worst part but…I enjoyed it.” Her tone souring. “When I bit Cornwell… I didn’t want to stop.”

Ash nodded, his face much more passive his eyes mellower. “But you did. Cornwell is saved.”

Michael shook her head. “It’s not the outcome, Ash. It’s about _me_. My desires, my…urges. I don’t…feel the way I used to. I don’t even… _regret_ killing those klingons. Not to mention, pissed off too. I _like_ feeding from a person.” Her posture stiffened as she spoke. “I never thought I’d end up _enjoying_ killing someone…It just shows me that…vampires lose their humanity when they turn. I lost mine.”

“Given how…this sounds, it certainly sounds you’re holding onto it…”

“You didn’t know me when I was human.”

“No,” Ash agreed, “But I’ve gotten to know you. You’re kind, compassionate and you’ve not lost your humanity if you’re _this_ conflicted. Think of it more…positively.”

Michael gave him a look. “How is murdering people a positive?”

“I read your report. You didn’t slaughter them all at once _with_ the open opportunity. You waited until you were provoked into it. Getting shot… that does like a good reason to attack back, Michael. And you didn’t kill anyone else on that ship when you easily could. That has to say _something_ , right?”

Michael’s eyes lowered. He had a good point. A few even. Untwisting the little knot she had in her stomach. She hadn’t thought of it like that… Certainly made her feel less like a monster. “Thanks, Ash.”

Ash smiled though the edges of it seemed forced, electing her to feel more concerned but didn’t press.

“Discovery’s been asked to jump to Starbase 46.” He spoke, setting a specific subject away, “the cloaking code is still being refined, from what I heard from engineering.”

“Hm, I’ve been asked to go to the bridge for the ride back.” If she was honest, she probably would have preferred to sit the jump out, or go and see Stamets; after the whole jumps and the toll it had on him, she should see how he was doing. Once they jump, she could catch up with him, after all, it was near the end of the alpha shift. Perhaps that was why they were jumping so soon too. Still, they had to remember war was not won yet; this was just _one_ victory but now Starfleet had their way to keep those victories coming.

Ash nodded, standing up though seemed to take it as a hint to leave. She darted in front of him, her hand out softly.

“I know you’re not ready to talk about it, but my door is open for you. If you need to at any time of day or night...” Michael offered, it seemed only fitting to allow him the same benefit with no judgement.

He looked at her for a long moment, his hand coming to pat her wrist. “Of course.” Light gratitude was in his gaze before she stepped aside. “Thank you.”

 

* * *

 

Paul stared into the cube as they waited, the rest of the ship preparing and hiss red gaze shifting to watch as Hugh plucked a cordial monitor from his case and wandered over. His head turning a fraction as he pressed the warm pad against his neck and connected them to the monitor.

“I heard this was going is going to be your last jump…” Hugh started softly.

Paul nodded. It wasn’t an easy decision to make, especially given the cost of what he was now for it. The pain of the jumps, the feel of his skin cracking, as the wonders of the network was and the experiences of being part of it; he knew his limits. He was not indestructible. What the network was doing to him, he needed to heal. He couldn’t do that by jumping. It felt right for him.

“For now, at the least. I need a break from it, from discovery.” He felt ready for that. “I want us to take that break… I’ll have a lot more free time on my hands and we no doubt have a lot to discuss.” Hugh future mostly. He had eternity at his fingertips, while he wanted to spend that time with Hugh, it had to be Hugh’s choice to turn when he was ready. This wasn’t a discussion for the ship. Just for them.

Hugh’s eyes watched him closely, the depth of his emotions swimming in them; the concern but also the relief that was layered underneath them. Hugh’s hand rose touching softly over his neck, uncaring of the temperature difference that made him smile. Pulling him closer and basked in the warmth of his body radiating against him, his hands slid to Hugh’s waist.

“Also, there’s a Kasseelian Opera house on a moon near Starbase 46…” Paul added, “Why don’t we take a trip. I can be your date.”

The warm of Hugh’s smile grew, though his eyebrow rose with a hint of scepticism. “You want to listen to Kasseelian Opera?”

The vampire chuckled though shrugged. “Not really, but I want to go out with you. I know you love it and… I want to do it for you. You’re my husband.” He lent forwards and was immediately met with Hugh’s soft lips into a deep kiss, ever careful of Hugh’s fragile body. Though there was the immediate urge to take it further, the surrounding noise around him was the reminder he needed that they were in public. He pulled away, stroking Hugh’s cheek with a smile.

“Lieutenant Stamets, you ready to dock this weary vessel?” Lorca’s voice chimed through, pulling them out their moment.

A soft sigh left his lips. “yes, Captain.”

Feeling Hugh’s lingering stare, Paul forced himself away and darted into the cube, pulling up his sleeves ready. Leaning back into his usual position but his eyes found Hugh’s again.

“I love you.”

Hugh watched but with the hint of worry for Paul, standing close to the cube. One last jump. It seemed fitting it’d be the one to return them to safety. But this was what he longed for, no more jumps. No more having Paul to go through with the ordeal; the cracks that scarred his skin were gone but Hugh needed Paul to be safe with this one. Keep track his structural integrity was his job as that was his only weakness.

Hugh didn’t need to answer back; Paul knew it was immediately reciprocated. He could feel it, a deep warmth inside that stayed and felt warmer when he was around Paul. He felt...complete.

Around them, the ship light changed as they sunk into the black alert. The computer calling it’s alarm, the spore drive activating.

The needles shooting into the augments but it made Paul’s body jolt but the scream that followed suddenly shot ice into his stomach. The sound of it wrong; the pure sound of agony. His monitor beeping rapidly but he knew why; cracks suddenly running down Paul’s face that was twisted with pain but it spread down, his face and neck. New cracks running up his arms from the argument and disappearing under the fabric….

When the whole ship gave a jolt.

“Paul!” He fell forwards, holding himself against the glass cube. The light flickered and the monitors flashed and glitched… everything felt wrong then the ship stopped

Then Paul’s screaming stopped abruptly as he froze up but Hugh could only watch in horror as his mate fell forwards. His structural integrity failing and then…. He hit the floor and his head shattered as if he was made of glass, falling into a broken heap and spreading shards of his crystalline form over the entire floor in his wake; the damage extensive…

 

* * *

 

On the bridge, Lorca clung onto his chair as they fell out of the jump, digging his heels into the metal floor to prevent himself being ejected out of it. But he recognised the space in front of him, the wreckage and the dimness of the stars showed him as much; they had made the jump. It coiled the sense of relief within him

“Talk to me cadet!”

 _“Logs confirm it’s an incomplete jump sir!”_ Panic laced through her voice. _“He shattered! Paul shattered!”_

Lorca’s jaw tightened but the new wasn’t unexpected… the risk had been worth it. Even if it was a one trip back; it’d take a while to get Paul back to shape…more than enough time for what he needed now.  He needed to maintain his part...

“Status?”

Owosekun’s fingers jumped along her screen. “Damage reports are still coming in, sir. But a few minor malfunctions, the ship is intact…. But it’d take a while to get us up and running.”

“Where are we?” His focus shifting to Saru who trapped along his screen quickly.

“I don’t know captain.” The Kelpien started though he remained shaken, “But…I’m unable to confirm our position using our systems, they’re going completely haywire….”

“But our jump, it can’t have been incomplete if we landed. We _have_ to be at our coordinates...” His steps almost guided towards the window staring out to his native universe, shaking his head. “So, where the hell is our star base?”

“Not where I should be, sir!” the alarm still raised in his First officers voice.

“Sir, minor injuries have been reported to sickbay.” Michael spoke up for the first time since getting onto the bridge, even her voice was eerily calm for such a situation. “Sensors should be online soon and we should get an idea of where we are then…. But apart from that, I don’t know where we are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know not the longest chapter but we're here now!!!! The MU!!!! whoohooo!!!


	17. The Terran Empire

Michael’s senses too, like the computers felt like that on static; the air around them had shifted, the feel of the ship seemed off and the light from the void seemed…dim to what she was expecting or used to. The ringing of the ship echoing in her ears of the yellow alert alarms and startled voiced. But she was fortune her sense of smell was fine…

The worry was in the air but she kept herself calm. She had to and it was easy to with the necessity of helping getting the systems back online. Her mind focused.

“Sensors are coming online momentarily, we should get an idea of our location.” Saru called from his station.

“Burnham?”

Michael felt his glance though she knew what he was asking about. “Finished scanning the debris. Scorch marks are constant of Federation weaponry but the hull signatures are a little…off?”

“Off?”

“Wreckage is Klingon but hull analysis registers outside of acceptable margins.” She couldn’t understand why but she would soon. She needed more scans.

“Anything here a threat?”

“No, all life signs or active power signatures, sir.” Rhys spoke up from his station

“Hm, small favours.”

Michael concurred, the last they needed right now was a Klingon ship to drop in on them when their systems were still recalibrating.

“Sir, our systems must have calibrated incorrectly…or malfunctioning. Our coordinates to our location are correct. The jump was successful, but…there’s nothing here. Our position is relative to our star charts and confirmed.  Our star base _should_ be right in front of us.”

“So why isn’t it…”

It didn’t help the confusion. Michael eye’s flickered past Saru, the sounds of the turbo lifting catching her attention before Ash hurried from the turbo lift.

“Nice of you to finally join us, even if it was yellow alert.” Lorca snidely pointed out, his mood looking to get the better of him.

“Sorry, Sir.” Ash apologised, moving to his station.

A new ping ringing up a second later. “Sir, we’re picking up a ship approaching at sub-light speed.” Owosekun piped up.

“Looks like a Vulcan cruiser.”

“Put it on screen.”

Michael’s head tilted a fraction as she saw the cruiser. It was Vulcan, yet its flight pattern was… unusual for Vulcans. The course it was charted was subtle in what she recalled. Why? Her lips pursed, eyeing it carefully though she immediately noticed the weapons on its hull twitch.

“It’s arming weapons” She called, moments before their ship detected the movement and energy build up. Breaking up Lorca and Saru’s talk on what it was doing here.

“Red Alert.”

The air shifted again with a momentary scramble for control of the situation. Her hands gripped at her station, watching as the first shot hit the saucer of the ship that immediately caused them to lurch.

“Evasive manoeuvres, Beta-Delta Five.”

The ship began to move, barely missing another shot before their weapons were online.

“Can’t seem to lock on, sir!”

“Do it manually.”

Michael’s mind easily started to run through the calculations, much faster as she could easily antiscipate the most logical action this ship would take as they doubled back . Her fingers tapped along her screen, sending the estimation of the target to the tactical within the moment. Discovery fired though her eyes watched as a second shot and theirs both hit the target. That wasn’t theirs… who was it?

“Where did that assist come from?”

“We’re getting a transmission. Audio only. It’s the Cooper.” Bryce called out.

“I though the Cooper was in dry dock, getting retrofitted…” Confusion laced heavily in Lorca’s voice, as it did within most of the faces. The whole thing was wrong.  “Put it through.”

“Spooked by rebel? You’re losing your edge, Discovery. Don’t worry, we’ll take care of them. Cooper out.”

“Vulcan rebels, firing on Starfleet?” Michael echoed in almost disbelief. Everything was wrong. Nothing made logical sense. Where was the context? She could whiz through a new hundred situation yet none would fit the result of where they were. There had to be something.

Her eyes flickered to the Klingon debris… her fingers coming to tap lightly; restarting new scans— the recalibrations has completed.

“With Stamets down, we can’t jump, sir.” Airiam spoke up. “Spore drive is offline.”

“I have something, captain.” Saru looked up, “Our scans of the debris, both Klingon and Vulcan are showing unusual quantum signatures that aren’t…consistent with outs.”

“Not possible.” Michael interrupted. “All matter of our universe resonated with the same quantum signature. It can’t be changed.”

“While that’s true, we have to consider the facts and the option that…. We’re not in _our_ universe, Burnham.” Lorca pointed out, turning his attention to the window.

Silence fell along the bridge but Michael could see the logic in that assumption; the ships firing on them, the cooper, Vulcan rebels… why their star base wasn’t here. In this universe, it wasn’t…

Lorca stepped away with a shake of his head. “If that’s true then we need help. We don’t know if this place is friendly or hostile so we need to gather all the intel we can get. Owosekun and Airiam, start your scans of the wreckage, see if you can find anything on the rebel ships we can use. Saru and Burnham, with me. Detmer, keep us stationary but if any more hostile vessels arrive, jump to warp.” Lorca called out, heading towards the Ready room.

Michael darted forwards, beating him to it though waited until he had passed through first before talking her place around the table.  “Am I to assume you have a theory how we got here, sir?” Michael asked after the doors closed, folding her arms across her chest. She knew of course, it had something to do with the spore drive. It had to be. It was the only logical conclusion but the how did elude her. Though she supposed if the Tardigrade could jump between multiple dimensions, then a ship was able too.

At his desk, Lorca reached forwards and flicked on his holo-projector. On that was a projection of the star chart that was also marked with a series of indicators. Michael could recognise the system, noting the corresponding markers. “Corvan 2, Benzar, Ophiucus… Pavho… all these markers are our jumps.” She could see a few more though she had no doubt been tending to other areas, such like stammers, at the time of the jumps—no doubt then they still had the tardigrade.  Though on the projection, she could see empty pockets; no stars or systems to speak of.

“They are. I’ve been collecting the data of them for potential future research after the war with Stamets.” Lorca agreed. “I have a hypothesis of exploration once we have enough data, even the possible idea of…parallel worlds. It’s been about on Earth since the 20th century. I also noted these…pockets and voids and came to conclusion that they’re… pathways from our world to this one, no doubt many more.”

“And we fell into it.” Michael realised. “When Stamets’s head shattered, we must have been in a direct path to the void instead of taking a different turn.”

“Likely. Our jumps around the Sarcophagus seemed to have given us the data to get here in one piece too and not to suffer the side effects as the network had on the USS Glenn.”

It sounded like the most logical explanation. Michael nodded softly, examining the star chart but there was no doubt a lot more to it than what Lorca was describing. A vast network, extending to all quantum realities that were all tied into the network; so many worlds; the possibilities… But now they were stuck in one with no idea how to survive it. And the Federation…

“My god, the cloaking breaking algorithm.” She realised out loud, “There’s no way we can send the data back to the federation now.”

“Which is why we need to get back. Otherwise our ships are sitting ducks and the war is good as lost.” With a flick of his fingers, the star chart turned off. “But first, we need to get the Intel from where we can, understand it, blend in, _survive_ …then try and find a way home.”

Michael inhaled deeply then nodded. “Of course, though to other concerns, may I be allowed to see to Stamets? The damage…Until I’m needed at the station, I can try to help. Vampire to vampire; he helped reconstruct me after all.”

“Your head was in two, you remember that?” Saru’s question was quiet, though a hint of curiosity in his voice.

“I was never unconscious, Commander. Just… unresponsive.” It was hard to explain to him, or to anyone the experiences. The most intact side of her form was the more dominant to retain awareness and memory. The vampire brain was…complex and perhaps consciousness didn’t remain in their head. Their limps still moved independently if detached, it was likely the information travelled differently; the need to pull themselves together was a biological reaction. It was why her hand was able to reconstruct perfectly despite the damage after being subjected to a blood-pool technique, why they leaked the fluid to aid it….

Culber had even said that under the skin, in her head; her brain mass was no doubt reconstituted into the same crystalline mass of her bone and muscles. Leaving the very possible option that they didn’t just exist in their heads. Decapitating a vampire wouldn’t kill them. They could still move.

Lorca dismissed her with a nod so she didn’t hesitate to dart to sickbay.

The serial air tingled at her nose, one she was very accustomed too. The scent of blood was profound too and flared her thirst but she felt controlled to be around it to enter, her eyes falling to see what state he was in.

Paul was… in many pieces. His lower half most intact, stripped down to just his underwear,  his torso had many cracks running from his belly up to his chest; or what was left of it; his arms, like his head were in separate pots beside each side of the main form.

Pollard was working closely with Culber; his hands shaking a lot, his face pale but devoted nonetheless as he carefully placed the shoulder section back, using a blood wash to aid the healing process. Both doctors had a tub of blood beside them, both their white uniforms stained with it and looking like they had killed him. 

“Can I help?” Michael asked, moving forwards to his side.

“Can you?” The question was snarkier than expected as it passed from Culber’s lips, his attitude definitely giving off a different vibe to what she expected but perhaps this was a reaction to having your husband and mate in literal pieces, a side effect of the bond. Something she didn’t take personally.

“His arms and head will need to be submerged for the integrations to put it back correctly.” Michael observed, looking to the pot that contained his head. That looked the most un-intact; the worst of the damage. How he could exist after would no doubt be in question but that had an answer on a later date. 

“We’ve got a tub being made for such a thing, Burnham. We’re modifying a replicator for a constant stream to fill it and to siphon off the fluid residue that’s left behind. Once we can do what we can here, we’ll move the rest of Stamets into that. When he fell, the crystalline mass… didn’t stay in one place. It’s hard to know which goes where.” Pollard spoke, picking up one of Stamets’s augments and chucked it lightly into one of the tubs. 

Michael nodded though she immediately started to help nonetheless; the fluid was already starting to build up on the bio bed so she could assume that sooner was better for him to go through the tub-treatments. They could use the scanners to work through it… but it wasn’t like he was going to expire on them; it was just a matter of time. He was sure gonna have a head ache after this…

 

* * *

 

_“Specialist Burnham to the bridge.”_

The voice called over the comms, breaking her attention as she adjusted the bloodflow on the replicator, now settled into a corner of the sickbay; separate from the others so not to scare anyone and offered the necessary privacy. They had done what they could with putting him back together, his shoulders, and upper arms and partially his neck was reconstructed. Now was the tub-treatments.

Dr Pollard had to go, Culber was not leaving and simply watched as started the filling process. IN the tub, Paul’s whole form lay in it. His shattered parts in the general locations.

“I can handle it from here.” Culber spoke up, reaching to the pipe in her hand, his tone very quiet.

“Are you okay?”

The doctor nodded. “I will be. I just… _need_ to stay with him.”

Michael didn’t argue, just nodded simply. She reached forwards and placed a hand on his shoulder, smiling softly. “He’ll be okay, Hugh.”

Culber’s eyes stared down, though he didn’t seemed to acknowledge her words but she didn’t need that to know he agreed. Vampires were tough. He had seen her broken to know. She patted his shoulder lightly and darted away.

Michael hurried to her station before she heard a soft titter from aside her. Her gaze flickered to Saru who eyed her though he didn’t look mad, just a little disapproving. Michael frowned softly. “What?”

Saru nodded towards her, his eyes flickering down to her uniform.

Her eyes followed, suddenly realising why. “Oh.” Blood. She was covered with it. She hadn’t wiped herself down or changed. “I was in sickbay.”

“If I didn’t know you were helping Stamets, It would have brought up more questions than answers.” His tone light but the focus in the air shifted as Tyler took his leave, volunteering to the workerbee.

Her fingers tapped over her screen, running through the scans they already had taken, allowing Saru’s input on the most probable location. She started to do a final scan before she noticed the worker bee move ahead on the screen.

“Comms are open, Lieutenant.”

“Copy, sir.” Ash replied, “Where am I heading?”

“The Klingon raider ahead of you, 200 meters, my last scans have picked up a faint energy signature, too weak for weapons but it seems likely to be a computer core.” Michael answered, flicking through the scans as she said this though it seemed more than likely. Nothing they couldn’t recover.

“Copy that. Glad the sensors are working again.”

“Hm, we’re still got a few malfunctions but nothing the engineering team can’t handle.” She followed him on screen though she watched as his flight pattern suddenly turned, falling out of the path and came to a stop.

“What the hell is he doing?”

Michael’s fingers paused though she could only guess… a panic attack. Alone in a small space, faced with a Klingon ship… she had known something was up, he didn’t want to talk about it. Of course she knew it was triggered by that Klingon… the sight of the ship much have re-triggered a reaction. Her jaw tightened, glancing to the bridge crew. Probably best not to announce such a thing… but she’d certainly need to talk to him later.

“Lieutenant Tyler.” She called through. “Get back on course and get ready to proceed. We need that data core.” A part of her hoping he’d focus to her voice to break him out of it. “Lieutenant.”

There was a moment of silence. “Yes, yes sorry.” His voice was breathless, “Just run scans of the ship. The bodies are Andorian and…Vulcan.”

Saru’s head tilted. “Vulcan and Andorian commanding a Klingon ship?”

“Strange world?” but there had to be a reason for that. But they’d only find out once they had the data. Michael’s focus stayed on the screen, her hand coming to rest beside the station. But It took a moment further before the worker bee resumed it’s course until it got to the back end of the raider.

“I’ve located the data core. I’ll need to clear away the hull to access it but it otherwise looks intact.”

“Be very careful, a slight nick could corrupt the data entirely or destroy the entire thing” Michael reminded softly but it was important. As good as technology was, it was bound by limits… _fragile_ limits.

Silence followed through the comms but Michael could pick up his breathing, shallow and fast; probably too low for the humans to pick up. None seemed to react.

“Got it.”

“Great, send it down to engineering as soon as possible.” Lorca rose to his feet, though Michael didn’t look at him until he stopped beside her. “You can…relax too.” He nodded to her hand. She glanced down, removing her hand to see the impression of her grip against the metal surface.

“Sorry, Sir.” She apologised, “I was focused… the data cores are, as you know, fragile things. We cannot afford to delay.”

Lorca’s eyebrow rose. “Is that your… _honest_ answer, Specialist?”

There hung a implication in his words, one she immediately connected though she gave him a look of disapproval he had even jumped that far. “He is a _friend_ , captain, nothing more if that’s what you’re concerned about.”

“I keep an open mind on relationships, Burnham. I just don’t want you to cross the paths of professionalise and personal, certainly now.”

“Vampires don’t fall in love, captain. We imprint. He’s not it. ” That was the best and only terms she could draw up for their mating process though stating it out loud felt…embarrassing. If she could blush, she sure she would have.

She held his gaze though, as if trying to dare him to push more from her. She didn’t bond with Ash in that manner. He knew that. She was entitled to care for him, as a friend but they were not the end game. She didn’t want to hurt him if they tried; sooner or later she’d bond with another, like it or not.

Lorca pursed his lips after a moment though looked to debate on what he next had to say. “Just, go down and sort out the data.” He decided to say, moving away.

 

* * *

 

“did he really imply that?” Tilly mused.

Michael chuckled softly. “He did. Not that it’s much of his business but he shouldn’t assume anything… we only met a couple months ago. Hardly the best time to spring…anything.”

“Yeah, then you got what weird love-at-first-sight thing your people have.”

“I think _imprint_ may have to be the official term.”

“When did you coin that?”

Michael shrugged though her attention was to the data core. “It’s a more convenient word. Plus, seems fitting. I think ‘soulmate’ is too strong and…not accurate.” It seemed more….unconditional than just what people accolade with that. “Though I came down here to get the data, not talk about vampire mating practices, Tilly?” She gave the redhead a raised eyebrow but Tilly just grinned softly.

“At least I got it open.”

“Hm.” Michael nodded to agree though she plucked the diamond shaped crystal. Easily recognising the type it was easily. “The data chip itself is Vulcan but its core casing is Klingon. Surprising to see how well they’ve incorporating their technology into each other.”

“But it does paint a picture. Vulcan, Andorian _and_ Klingons… against us humans. Are they…some sort of federation against us human? Are we the Klingons in this world?”

Michael knew what she implying and it certainly seemed that way. “I’ll start the download onto our systems. But…for our cover sake, I’ll move discovery data to the front so we know who we are here first.” Rest of It was secondary. They would have counter parts in another world; she’d rather not cross paths with them or bring up attention to themselves with being known doubles. Who know what their counterparts of this humanity would do.

Tilly nodded. “I can have Airiam help?”

Michael paused though she immediately saw the appeal. Airiam’s augmentations would allow for a quick and efferent way to crunch the nessessary data. So much faster than their ships ability to compute it. Time was of the essence. A ship could easily come across them. Best not to be caught with their pants down.

“Lieutenant Airiam to Engineering, We need you down here.” She called through the comms. Though she placed half the chip to start the download into the ship’s data.

“How’s Stamets?” Tilly hovered, picking up her own PADD. Her blue eyes were huge and the emotions receded in them like pools. Concern, worry and anxiety. “Seeing him…. Seeing him shatter, I had no idea what it was like…”

“He will get better.”

“He was in hundreds of pieces.”

“So was I. It took time but I healed.” She placed the PADD down, allowing it to continue before pushing up her stained sleeves. “The cracks are next to gone in my vision. Our bodies are resilient and we can be put back together, Tilly.”

Tilly’s lips pursed, reaching forwards and grabbed ahead of her hand, running a finger up and down. “But still…”

Michael pulled her arm away, patting her arm reassuringly. “It’s okay to keep wondering.”

The door behind her opened and Airiam came down the stairs quickly though she looked if a little confused, no doubt to why she was called down. Michael departed from Tilly and grasped her PADD and the download that was still taking place.

“Lieutenant,” She greeted. “I hope you don’t mind my assumption but your augmentation allows you greater technological skills to aid in…data managing?”

The confusion cleared away, nor did she looked offended. “You need my help to organise the data?”

“I’ve summarised that we need Discovery related data first in this world to get our cover established should we get any unwelcome visitors between now and then. We need to know where their Discovery is and who runs it. That sort of thing.”

Airiam’s eyes flickered to the PADD and nodded. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you.” She handed the PADD over and picked up the second chip for the second download.

 

* * *

 

“This is… interesting.” Michael remarked as she stepped onto the bridge, catching the attention of Lorca and Saru, both turned to look at her from his station.

“You got the data?”

Michael nodded. “Yes, Thanks to Airiam’s help, I’ve got most of our counterpart’s details. We are in another universe that is… different. There is no Federation but a more dominating and oppressive  power called the Terran Empire. Human only and anti-alien attitudes.” She carried on, stopping to her station shooing the data up onto the screen ahead for the bridge crew to see. “I know I’m being brief but I believe we need to start assembling our covers. Airiam’s sending data of the senior staff of their counterparts directly to them than have us wade through it and burn up time.”

“Wise assessment.” Lorca agreed, exhaling out. “Saru’s been scanning the surrounding area. The Cooper assumed us to their discovery so we’ve looked into that, seems likely that…our Discovery and their Discovery switched places.”

Saru nodded, looking mildly put out of being the one not getting the explanation. “I’ve just matched our warp signature so no one would think differently.”

“So we won’t run into another of our ship. That’s good. But that also brings us to the crew manifest…specially, the _captain_ of the ship.”

“Who is it?”

“Not you, Sir.” On the screen an image popped up. Unlike their counterpart, her red-hair was more strawberry blonde and straightened out, wearing a confident posture and dressed in gold and black amour. She certainly looked like a captain now.

“Tilly?” Ash echoed.

Michael turned her attention to him though she could see why there was a hint hilarity in it. Tilly’s flamboyant nerves often got the better of her; rambling and the mass of curls did little to create an aura of authority.

“Yes. She’s being briefed now on her but I thought it might be best to send her here.”

“Err, sir, we’re picking up a ship on long range sensors.” Bryce called up, “It’s the ISS Cooper.”

“Block their hails under the guise of damaged comms.” Michael immediately suggested, “It should buy us enough time to get prepared, or _Tilly_ prepared. Our ship is still damaged; when they get here, they’ll run the scans so that should give us plenty of reason to not question late responses.”

“Love the idea, let’s do it.”

 

* * *

 

“Oh god this is so scary!” Tilly breathed, her hand grasping on Airiam’s arm tightly. “Captain…an evil captain at that. This is _so_ not how I saw my day going.”

Michael met them at the turbo lift and took Tilly off her and headed her towards Lorca’s seat. “I know it’s scary, Tilly, but just… _repeat_ that I say. I’ll be right next to you the whole time.”

“But you know I talk too much… what if I slip up?”

“I know. But pretend for a moment that you’re not talking to another ship with questionable morals, but to an admiral of high authority. You’ve got all our support here and you need to project more conference in your voice as you speak.” She spoke, pushing Tilly into the captain’s chair and knelt close to her.

“You can do this cadet.” Lorca encouraged, forcing a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“Okay, they’re going to clock on any minute communications are fine. Now’s the time, sir. They’re saying to answer the hail or prepared to be fired on.”

Tilly let out a shaky breath, though she grasped both of Michael’s hands though Michael gave her a soft look. After a moment, she took a deep breath and nodded.

“Mr Bryce, open the channel. Audio only.” Lorca added.

Straightening herself up, Tilly stared ahead, her hands shaking and her pulse racing but she looked focused. Michael lent forwards to speak softly, to not be overheard..

“This is… Captain Tilly. Is… is the weapons threat really necessary?” A hint of Tilly’s nerves filtered into her voice as she repeated her whisper.

_“This is Captain Spoenesman, why the delay in responding, Discovery?”_

“If you haven’t noticed, our ship was damaged in the attack. Our communications were another of our systems that were knocked out. Repairs are underway.” With a soft squeeze of her hands, more conference laced Tilly’s voice, washing away the hint of her nerves; making her sound stronger.

 _“I see.”_ There was a momentary pause. _“Is that why you’re still hanging around? Our scans show your propulsion systems are functioning. Trying to wait around for more Kills.”_

“Hm, the hardware is fine. A corrupted file leaked a virus into the ship systems; comprising helm, navigation and impulse controls, not _just_ the communications array. It’ll take time for us to clear it but our systems are coming online and should be up soon enough. No assistance is required.”

Michael knew it was a stretched lie, software was different to hardware but she had to hope they didn’t run those types of scans.

_“Very well, Discovery. More rebel nests for us. Happy hunting. Long Live the Empire.”_

“Long live the empire.” Tilly echoed after a poke to her knee. Michael nodded to Lorca to close the transmission and rose to her feet. Tilly exhaled heavily, looking like she wanted nothing more than to pass out.

“That went better than expected….” Lorca looked to Michael more with an impressed look. “You _really_ know how to lie. Even _I_ felt convinced and I knew what the hell is going on.”

Michael shrugged, though suppressed a smile. “Logic and a faster brain process, sir.”

“Still…” He turned his attention to his chair, giving Tilly a look. She jumped out the seat and let go of her hands to fold them under her arm pits with a shudder. “That’s bought us all the time we need to get this ship and its crew to speed without further interruption. We are now the ISS Discovery and we must do what we have to to _keep_ that cover. Let’s get to business.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well...i know i said i wouldn't call the mating process an 'imprint' but tbh, i really couldn't find any other name for it (believe me, i searched around for alternatives...) 
> 
> That said, we're much closer to where I want to be. I'm quite excited to get to Georgiou.   
> Love to hear your thoughts, screams and ideas of this chap XD


	18. Trip preperations

Michael sat with Airiam as she scanned through the data the augmented women was still refining but now most of it was out and the more she read, the more she disliked this world. She could hear Tilly getting changed into her Terran outfit, also hearing her almost fall over a few times and a few chosen words after she had caught a finger in the armour.

“Anything on me?” Michael asked again,

Airiam paused, her synthetic eyes lifted off the PADD though shook her head. “It’s a lot of data… I’m sure something will pop up.” She sat back, exhaling heavily. “Most of this crew is already on the Discovery’s counterpart, except Detmer and Owosekun…to name a few.”

“Where are they?”

Airiam hesitated, glancing to her PADD. “Detmer is first officer of the ISS Shenzhou.”

Michael’s eyes rose from her PADD, her lips pursing together. Why was she surprised to hear they had the Shenzhou? Of course they did…. Most of the ships they knew had counterparts as did they. Only, from what she knew, there were no vampires here. Only humans in control. It was likely vampires had become extinct here with the development of technology.

“Can you find anything on Philippa Georgiou?” She couldn’t help herself in asking. Not that she knew this Georgiou would any better than the rest of these Terrans but if she was _alive_ here…

Airiam’s fingers tapped along the screen before shaking her head. “Nothing… a lot of it fragmented. They’re stolen records but…specifics are hard to sort through. One person is…too little to go by.”

“I understand.”

Probably why her counterpart was unknown too. Still, at least the ship was finishing up being kitted up to match its counterpart, she had to say, it was impressive how fast it had happened. No doubt all crew not fixing the ship was devoted into its transformation. She could already hear a few complaints of the crew of their new attire; all human crew having to change. The non-humans were staying in her current uniform though she had heard Lorca discussing with Saru on Terran prison garb for them on the off-chance of an unwelcomed boarding party. It sounded unlikely but they didn’t know what this universe was going to throw at them…

Picking up her PADD, she started to flick back through the data until she found Captain TIlly’s file and began to lazily read through it until she heard movement. Her eyes flickered to see the woman in question emerge out, this time in almost all her Terran gear, though she knew the wig she was to wear was still in the replicator.

Tilly looked nervous in her new gear, her posture stuff in discomfort though she offered a weak smile. “How do I look?”

Michael smiled softly and rose to her feet as she allowed her gaze to once again drop to obverse her. “You look Terran, just about.” She titled her head a fraction. “You need to project conference into your posture to really pull off the sense of…authority.”

Tilly bit her lip but looked away with a shake of her head. “I’m sure if I was like…a vampire I could do it.”

“You don’t need to be undead, Tilly, to fool a group of psychotic humans that you’re one of them.”

“But, out of both of us, you can intimidate people with a _look_ … You’re terrifying, Michael, and you don’t intend to be. I have to…pretend that I’m an evil captain. That I don’t…take bull shit or anything from anyone… I’m terrified.” Tilly moved and threw herself down beside Airiam. The other woman gently grasped her arm, assuring her too.  “Audio is one thing —not to mention you did the talking and I just copied you but… _this_. Being her…” She shook her head. “She’s not what I’ve wanted to be as a captain.”

Michael knelt down in front of her, placing the PADD down though she watched as Tilly looked to be near tears. “You’re not her. You’re a good civilianised person who is working her way to be captain. It takes… a lot to be in this position. A lot of guts to even consider this role. But, Tilly, you need to remember that this crew is here to support you. They will take your orders and you will command them accordingly. _Terrans_ are the fakes; they’re paranoid and friendless and have a support system of moving sand, not Starfleet stone.” Michael answered, patting her knee softly. “I don’t know about you but this crash course will certainly work in your favour when we get home, right? You’re the only one that gets to say you captained Discovery through the Terran Empire.”

Despite the tears, Tilly chuckled once but there was a calmer hint to her posture now. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I… I suppose.”

“You know I’m right. You’ll be an amazing captain. I’ll keep telling you that until you believe it and right now, you are the captain of ISS Discovery.”

Tilly’s face crinkled into a soft smile. “Thanks…I think.”

Michael smiled back and straightened up though her attention was drawn as Airiam straightened up.

“I found you, Burnham.”

Airiam was quick to hand over the PADD though Michael’s attention was fully to the information, her eyes running over each line though a few were redacted but that mattered little, taking it from her. She frowned lightly _. Captain Michael Burnham. ISS Shenzhou. MIA; presumed KIA._ A picture was also included but apart from the clear tell-tale signs; this Burnham was fully human. It was an odd sight to see.

“Interesting…” Her eyes lingered on the last report.

_‘Upon the orders of the Emperor, Captain Burnham was assigned to capture Gabriel Lorca after betraying the empire to the Rebels. However, Captain Burnham’s shuttle on her assault against the traitor ended with a rupture of the critical systems and explosion of the shuttle after being ambushed by Lorca’s followers. Lorca escaped. No body was able to be recovered from the wreckage. Assumed deceased.’_

“What?”

“This Burnham was human. Assumed dead. Not sure how that helps us here.” She looked up from the screen to the two eyes looking at her. “I will need to talk to Captain Lorca about this. His counterpart is a wanted furtive for her death…” 

“Sounds colourful.” Tilly remarked, though nodded. “I’ll catch up with you later. Airiam’s going to talk me through my…titles.”

Michael nodded then darted away.

 

* * *

 

It took very little time until she chimed her way into Lorca’s ready room. It didn’t surprise her to see he was well out of sight, she could see him reading through his counter-parts file before she even stopped.

“I see you’ve found your counterpart.” She remarked. “Unsettled?” It was meant as a light joke and he chuckled, taking it as one too.

“It’s… odd. But… I was hoping for something better than what I am now. I suppose… given the nature of this world; ruthlessness is a necessary trait.”

“Indeed.” Though Michael didn’t know what point he was making. Self-doubt had never been one point he made known. “Most of the ship are accounted for. I heard you removed Detmer from the helm station?”

“A necessary precaution. She’s been assigned to train up a few of the others in it in the meantime.”

“The non-humans, you mean?” Her eyebrow rose.

Lorca nodded though didn’t looked abashed by the decision. “A necessary precaution. We can’t risk any terrans seeing a non-human in our ranks. That’d draw immediate suspicion.”

“I understand the logic,” she answered. “But, we too will draw up suspicion. I am not human and I still wear the face of their dead captain. You, sir, are currently an empire’s traitor on the run for my murder.”

Lorca’s face didn’t change though he looked away. Deep in thought though she could see the flush of blood in his cheeks as he did so. His jaw clenched and he started to pace. Michael allowed herself to watch as he did so.

“Here.” He flicked the PADD over to her. “Go to the next page.”

Michael eyed him for moment before picking it up, complying with a soft swipe of her fingers.

“ _USS_ Defiant?” Her eyes flickered up from the screen. “That’s not the Terran version?”

Lorca shook his head. “The Defiant in our reality is currently patrolling a different sector away from the War. But I suspect that our universes are running in different time zones to each other if it’s _already_ here.”

That logic was sound; of course they’d actually had to find a way to study time differences between worlds… not all would be in the 23rd century. But there was appoint he was making and she could see it; the Defiant didn’t have a spore drive to get here. It opened up a slim chance of a return without it with Paul still in his crippled state.

“What’s you plan? I assume you have one is you’re showing me this?” Her eyebrow rose though he nodded.

“It’s… a complicated one but… from what you can see, there’s not nearly enough data on the Defiant that can allow us to start. We need to get the files…but to do so, only a high ranking captain on a Imperial Starship can access the data.”

Michael nodded. “You’re hardly in the position to waltz on one and get the information, sir.”

“No, but _you_ are.” He gave her a pointed look, his hands coming to fold over his chest. “I know it’s a lot to ask but… out of everyone here, you could be the one to get us home. We can’t use the spore drive until we know what state Stamets is in once he’s rebuilt… this may be our only other option.”

Michael’s eyes flickered back to the PADD though she couldn’t help but see there were more negatives than positives to that reasoning. The reality was different. She was different and certainly not human enough to pretend for that long. On her prison shuttle, all she did was sit and wear contacts to _look_ human. _Acting_ human for that amount of time, different thing.

“I…understand what you’re trying to say but… I’m not sure how long I could even hold a human-façade here, sir.” She spoke up. “Human instinct alone would pick up that I’m a predator, even if I was dressed up to look the part.”

Lorca smiled softly, but nodded. “I get that, truly but this is the best opportunity we have to find a way home. You cannot pass that up.”

Michael’s jaw clenched but she knew the choices were limited. She’d have to do this. For the crew to have a chance to get home. They deserved that at the very least. “I know sir.” She placed the PADD down. “What is the full plan?”

Lorca didn’t hesitate to jump to it this time, “You’ll need to pose as Captain Burnham, to get to a Imperial ship, we should get your previous command, the ISS Shenzhou. It should contain the data we need. You get that, Discovery will be close enough to beam us back.”

“How long should it take?” There were plenty of flaws that could easily

Lorca shrugged. “As long as it takes to get the necessary data. A few days, at minimum. Stamets’s head will take at _least_ a week to reconstruct in comparison.”

They didn’t have a week to stay inconspicuous. The Terran Empire would pick up on their absence…

“I’ll…get changed, sir. Should I inform Commander Saru?”

“No, I’ll do that. But I do want you to work with Lieutenant Airiam and Detmer, they should be free to…teach you how to be more human.”

Michael nodded.

 

* * *

 

 

“Hm, maybe a _tad_ slower.” Detmer remarked as Michael once again darted across the shuttle-bay’s flooring; the biggest space they would use for this tedious exercise.

“This feels like I’m jogging slower than a human’s average pace, Keyla.” Michael complained as she jogged effortlessly around each marker.

“You are looking like you’re running still.” Detmer rose her eyebrow. “Can’t you…find a beat to walk at?”

Michael slowed to a stop at the far marker along the insignia of the federation, her fingers coming to adjust the uniform’s metallic amour from bending with her movements. “It’s not that easy. It feels _ridiculous_. Especially dressed up.”

“You still need to blink at least 3 times a minute.” Airiam pointed out, though she approached holding out a small box.

Her red eyes flickered to it though she curiously took it off her, unable to smell anything other than saltine water from it. Though she was faced with a few sets of contact cases, each, she could assume were brown.

“We’ve redesigned these lenses to last longer than the previous ones you’ve worn. Each lens has the pupil centre removed to make your sight unhindered.” Airiam pointed out. “They should last about 3.2 hours each set with a three blink a minute system. 2 hours any more than that and 4 hours with not blinking.”

Michael nodded, tucking that information away for later though Airiam stepped forwards and took one out and flipped it over. Exposing a adhesive strip

“They should also clip under your armour for quick assess. This chip contains the replicator code for you to have some made once you’re in the ship. These ones should last you 43 hours altogether at max.” Airiam pointed out a small blue chip in the corner of the case.

Michael sighed though immediately began to stick a few of the cases to the underside of her armour. “Anything else I should know?”

Airiam hesitated for a moment, glancing to Detmer then back. “Since… you’re transporting over, you won’t be able to take a lot of things with you. Such as…blood packets.”

Michael’s eyes narrowed at this information. “What?!”

“Lorca believes that any cases you might have could be checked… having 9 packets of blood is would draw up unwanted attention.”

Her jaw clenched tightly. Was he being serious? Testing her self-control like that wasn’t something she had done. She did feed regularly to be safe around her crew and they were expecting her to do days… maybe even a week _without_ feeding? That was hardly going to be a good idea.

“Excuse me.” She didn’t wait for a dismissal before she zoomed away, weaving around the crew and slipping into a closing turbo lift, startling the occupants though she was too annoyed to feel amused by it.

When she got to the bridge, she headed to Lorca’s ready room and once again chimed. She could smell Both Lorca’s scent and Tilly’s though while he has a calm heartbeat, hers was significantly raised. It didn’t surprise her that she was still nervous. It also seemed he had turned off the soundproof technology in the room to even allow her to hear in.

“Come.”

The door pinged open and both Tilly— now donning her new hair style— and Lorca turned to look at her. He too was dressed for the occasion, now sporting a new protective tactical vest, dark clothes and a leather jacket.

“What happened with you?” Tilly asked cautiously, noting her displeased expression and dark eyes.

“I’m not allowed to feed while I’m on the ship?” She ignored Tilly, directing this fully to Lorca. “Captain that is not an option. I don’t have a good sense of self control if I haven’t fed for more than 34 hours. I _have_ to feed regularly.”

“You don’t think I don’t know that, Burnham. But you’ve done well since you’ve come aboard. I’m positive you can handle it.”

“Until I rip out one of their throats with my fangs.” Michael challenged. Her arms folding over her chest. “I don’t know about you but if I go on a murder spree on the bridge, some people are going to notice.”

Lorca paused though shrugged, “you could pass that off easily; the Terrans kill a lot of their own crew.”

Michael growled at him loudly at the implication; that he didn’t seem to care if she lost control or the loss of life she could induce in a thirst driven frenzy. She didn’t want to be a killer and she had done well—if you minus the Klingons— to not kill anyone else. She didn’t need the reminders of what she was. She didn’t want her self-control to be tested in such a manner. That wasn’t her. How long could she go before she snapped? By all accounts she could easily be classed as a ‘new’ vampire given she wasn’t even a year into this new life.

Lorca stepped back though held his ground, his hands raising. “Look, look, look. I know that it sounds bad, but you’re the _only_ one on this ship that can pull this off. Just… if you need to feed, then you can be discrete about it. No one questions that…”

Michael’s displeasure didn’t weaver. But she knew the topic of discussion was over by the look he was giving her. Her lips pursed tightly though Tilly moved forwards, touching her arm softly.

“Garlic spray?”

While she knew it was meant to lighten the tense mood, Michael said nothing though broke her gaze to the table where she saw a circular black device. It was familiar but she hadn’t questioned to what it was before. She had seen it in a few rooms.

“What is _that_?” Bitterness still laced in her voice, even with the topic change.

“The devices we installed to soundproof rooms. We’re calling them _Audio Suppressors_ ”

“Hm.” It made sense it was all in one device and how quickly Lorca had installed them on the ship. One was for each room. Made sense to why she could hear out of the room to the bridge so quickly too. Her hand reached forwards, picking it up and examined the front panels; the Starfleet insignia’s shape was there in her vision but looked to have been peeled off. There were a few buttons on the front too. One with a red light, one that dialled like a volume and a second green one.

“Press the green to clamp it to a surface, the red to release. Pressing the dial down will turn it on and turning it alters now much sound gets through. Like a speaker. There’s a blue light that flashes an indication.” Tilly pointed out. “I suggested that…for your quarters it might be a different atmosphere on the terran ship… also they have something called Agonizers. So…definitely loud. I don’t think you want to hear screaming constantly. I certainly wouldn’t”

Michael’s eyes flickered up from the device. “Any more surprises I should expect?”

Lorca shifted in his spot but that didn’t surprise her, her gaze flickering to him, her eyebrow rose to question him wordlessly.

“There...may be a high chance I may be put into one of these once we get here.”

Despite her displeasure at him, corner leaked in next. Agonizers sounded exactly what it was if there was screaming involved. That was hardly going to settle her any further; this was unwelcomed territory to allow. She didn’t want him to hurt himself more than necessary. “Sir…”

Lorca smiled softly, “I know that…it’s not right but it may have to be done. Arguing otherwise will draw up attention that we don’t need. From what I’ve read, all Terran ships are equipped with this technology meant for traitors and rebels. But I’ve had Doctor Pollard work on a few nerve-numbing agents for me so it won’t be nearly so bad.”

Michael sighed heavily but nodded. “I understand, Sir.”

“Good. Now, Lieutenant Tyler will be your personal guard there—all captains have one. He’s been briefed and changed.”

Michael nodded. “Where is he?”

“Probably in his quarters but, no time to see him now. We need to play our parts and get this show on the road.” Lorca nodded to the handcuffs then held his wrist out. His blue eyes turning to Tilly. “You ready?”

Tilly nodded, inhaling deeply. “Yes, Sir.”

“Then go.”

Michael watched as she straightened up and composed a solid expression then headed to the door.

“You can do this.” Michael called after her, last words of encouragement before the doors open, fixing on Lorca’s cuffs

 _“Lieutenant Bryce, Hail the ISS Shenzhou. Now.”_ Her demeanour shifting as confidence laced her voice, _really_ getting into character.

Michael flipped open her first contact case, slipping each one of them in though despite Airiam’s conference , she could still see the edges of the contact pupils, her focus shifting a little though the blinked as she felt them settle over her irises. “How do I look?”

Turning her focus to Lorca who chuckled. “Like a Terran.”

Michael took that as a compliment, despite the fact she knew she shouldn’t have but she looked the part; that was all she needed. She dropped off the unnecessary case though turned her attention to the view screen as the captain of the Shenzhou flickered into sight.

Her breath paused immediately. Conner. Guilt filtered into her stomach as she thought of him… the other him. Ensign Conner… to suffer a cold, space-void death in the start of the war; because of her. Here, he was just…twisted. Even as she watched as he listened to Tilly; he looked disinterested, Uncaring. No warmth in his eyes. A mirror of themselves. It never felt more apparent now.

She felt Lorca’s gaze, his frown. “You knew him?”

“He was on the USS Shenzhou. Ops officer. I watched him die at the battle of the binary stars.” She admitted softly. “I hate this…”

Lorca exhaled deeply. “It’s not easy, but…we have to expect the familiar strangers. Don’t let ourselves be fooled by it.”

“I know.”

Silence fell between them as they settled to continue watching, a cue in waiting.

_‘While searching for hidden rebels, I came across a disabled shuttle. I found something you’d fine…most intriguing.’_

Michael didn’t need to see her face to know the smile she was putting up. She felt a swell of pride for her within her chest. Grabbing Lorca’s cuffs, she took immediate charge; not needing tp put up an expression as she exited from the ready room, her strength next to dragging Lorca.

Conner’s eyes widened, _“Captain Burnham?!”_ He blinked rapidly, as if not believing his eyes. _“We…we thought you were—“_

“You believed exactly what I wanted you to think.” Michael interrupted smoothly, staring at the hologram intently, “Especially him.” She shoved Lorca down, hearing him hiss out as her fingers gripped at the back of his collar; accidentally snagging a few hairs in the process. “It was the only way to capture this traitor.” Her voice never changed in tone; she didn’t need to; even as a hologram, she could see his muscles twitch to see his discomfort in talking to her. Perhaps was more the shock of seeing her…

Conner composed himself quickly, his face turning stern. _“Most ingenious.”_

“I don’t need your compliments, Conner. I need my ship.” Her eyebrow rose, titling her head softly.  His face turned sour, subtle distaste. With her coming back; he was to be demoted. Not that Michael cared on that.

_“Of course.”_

“I expect you’ve kept her in _perfect_ condition.” Her tone hardened fraction.

 _“Yes, Captain.”_ His lip twitched as he spoke

“Bring her to me.”

The Terran eyed her for a long moment and she held his stare without a blink, narrowing them shrewdly until he spoke. “ _We currently have a rebel group pinned down here. It’d be easier if you come to us.”_

Tilly scoffed at that, drawing his attention. “Is that how you treat your long-lost captain, Captain Conner? If you greeted me that way, I’d rip the tongue out your throat and use it to clean my boots.”

Conner’s lips curled though the amusement didn’t reach his eyes _. “We will alter course for the Discovery and prepare for your arrival.”_

“Be sure that you do.” Michael warned heavily.

Then the hologram flickered and died.

 

* * *

 

Ash paced around his quarters, his heart hammering in his chest and he could feel the cold sweat as he moved, changing once again into a new set but the under feelings of fear never seemed to escape him…. He could feel hands all over him, the pain of blades as the feeling of his flesh being cut, the softness of the Klingon bed— it hurt, it _disgusted_ him and it all never left him.

He had tried… tried to block all those feelings away and pretend that nothing was wrong. It made thing easier when it was like that. Made even breathing bearable. He knew he couldn’t cover this up. From Starfleet, he could and that was easy. But from Burnham; he couldn’t.

He knew that it wasn’t her fault; she could smell his blood to know the amounts of hormones coursing through his veins; his rapid heartbeat in his chest was the other give away; so many physical tells she could pick up on. Her finding out was not the issue; they had a developed friendship since their meeting; it was likely she knew already. The fact that Lorca had kept his position as chief of security over Landry had meant he was unaware of it. He hadn’t wanted this position, not if there was a better person, like Landry, who could fill those shoes with no trauma of the Klingons holding her back.

Her leaving this ship, to ensure Cornwell’s arrival and to debrief the team in person, it had left him without another friend. Landry had been kind. She hadn’t shown it to a lot of people-or anyone really but she understood his position; his trauma and like Michael, found her small way to help. He appreciated the recordings she left; to aid his mental grounding when a panic attack or anxiety attack hit him. More now and more at night so he had them playing quite a bit. Allowing him to calm down and to fall asleep for the much needed rest, even if it was short intervals. But right now, he wanted to talk to her, for non-bias advice from a security head. He shouldn’t even be going on the Shenzhou. But, he had to. He had to for Michael. For his crew.

Ash forced himself to stop moving, listening out as the audio filtered in before grabbing a wash cloth with fresh water; wiping away the sweat; the coolness of the water helping him focus sharply back too. Deep breath in…deep breath out….

It took a few minutes, he could feel his heart slow down; less erratic…His hands still shook but that mattered little. Giving himself a further wash down before he felt ready enough for a new shirt and jacket, slipping the black amour over the top then the door chimed. He swallowed thickly.

“Computer, pause audio.” He called out, glad to hear strength in his voice. “Come.”

The door opened to show Michael hovering in the doorway, still as a statue as she ever was. She immediately frowned.

“Are you okay?”

He glanced around, seeing the sweaty pile of discarded uniform; something she was no doubt smelling. He couldn’t help the flush but nodded her in.

“I’m fine.”

She almost made him flinch as she moved, standing at his coffee table to inside her head in a silent request to sit. He nodded, watching her seat herself down. Though he immediate noticed something was different…

“Your eyes… I’ve never seem them brown before.” He remarked, unable to hide the surprise. Of course she’d have to cover those for this…

Michael chuckled softly though nodded. “Contacts don’t last long in my eyes. Give it 3 hours.”

Ash found himself nodding, adjusting his amour and sat down, though he found himself staring at her for a long moment. Despite everything, he couldn’t help but marvel at her, at what she was… she didn’t look scared nor nervous. He could barely read her next move or anticipate what she was thinking. Her stony façade was nature of course. He knew that. Yet; he had read her file—required mostly as chief of security and to Lorca’s suggestion. He understood her own transformation into this being was traumatic; enduring the torture then the pain of the transformation that should have left her mentally scarred… to act like he would. Yet; she wasn’t affected by it. It never showed. A better mask than he could ever put up. An envious trait as any…

“How do you do it, Michael?”

Her head inclined only a fraction, a quiet ask to elaborate. “You’re able to mask almost all from your expression.”

Michael seemed to understand her, the shift in her expression minimal as she sat back, her hands on her knees. “I know you’re dealing with your PTSD, Ash since…” She didn’t finish but he knew the implication, supressing the shudder of through him and the disgust— how had even allowed himself to pay _her_ another visit. It made his skin crawl.  “but I think we need to talk about that before we get stuck on an enemy ship together.”

Her reasoning had logic, of course but it made his jaw clench and look away.

“Ash.”

“It’s…not easy to talk about.”

“I know. But what we’re going to face, I have to know that you’re able to come with me with minimal risk of a panic attack. Terrans… they have a difference of tolerance for that and I don’t want you to get yourself hurt.”

Ash huffed out. “I can handle it.”

“For how long is the next question.” He gave her a look though she seemed to nod at his pile of damp clothes. “I know the reasons to why you’re not getting the professional help…aside from _literally_ being a universe away.”

That left a bitter to burst from his lips. “I know the protocols for PTSD. But I’ve been dealing with it one day at a time. Right now, with my head in gear. I can do this. I can be there for you and this crew.” Ash exhaled heavily but it was genuine. He stared at her, hoping she could see that.

Michael didn’t answer; just stared at him for a long moment that left his wondering…what was she thinking? Her head inclined to the left suddenly, the only lead that she was over hearing something from his time with her. Then she rose to her feet, offering a hand up.

Ash could only assume she was taking his words, reaching up and grasped her icy, stone hand and pulled himself up but he didn’t let go. “Thank you.”

She didn’t smile though emotions did shine through to her eyes. “We will continue this, Ash. On the Terran ship.”

Ash nodded quickly. Both a relief and dread in itself but she was allowing him along; that was all he was grateful for. She nodded towards the door, the hint in the air.

“We’re leaving?”

“The Shenzhou’s almost here.”

Ash exhaled but nodded. “Lead the way.”

 

* * *

 

Michael knew better to really take Ash on his word and their conversation was far from over but there was some assurance she had gotten from him in their talk. But time had pressed and they had to get going.

Lorca was getting his nerve-shot from Dr Pollard when they arrived at the transport room, Tilly immediately came over to her.

“Okay, a few last minute things I need to point out; you need to fidget around a little; shift your weight, move your shoulders….that sort of thing. Your statue stance is…unnerving.” She fired off quickly. “You also need to slouch. Humans don’t sit so straight. If you’re holding your breath then subtly move your shoulders and…don’t use excessive force against any opponent you might clash with.”

Michael smiled softly, patting Tilly’s hand to slow her down. “Thank you, Tilly.” She spoke. “I’ll keep it all in mind when I get there.”

Tilly’s blue eyes starred at her for a long moment before she seemed satisfied with the answer. “If we need to contact you, I’ll be the one starting the call.”

Michael nodded though she broke away to Dr Pollard who opened up a case and held out a blood bottle. Michael didn’t hesitate to grab and bite into it; filling herself up had to be the best option but it was empty within a few seconds, sniffing just in case there was a second but to mild disappointment, there wasn’t.

“Now, Mr Saru, you’re in charge in my absence… or at least Captain Killy is to anyone _off_ the ship.” Lorca started, flexing his wrists as he adjusted to the cuffs, moving himself too to a transport pad. “Now, remember, weakness is seen in decency, so no more apologies. We are now Terrans. Exposure gets us killed….and the lives of everyone on this ship. And the federations is we don’t get home.” He looked around. “So, you have to do whatever you must, to anyone to ensure our cover.”

Michael felt a twinge at the implications but she understood it. “Yes, Captain.” She answered, hearing that echo from Ash too.

Though Lorca smiled softly, amused. “Now, this is the last time you’re calling me captain…hopefully just for a while.”

Michael shifted herself around, taking a long deep breath of Discovery’s air ready. Listening as Lorca called out to energize before her vision was swallowed up by bright gold…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoo, another step closer to Georgiou!!! So looking forwards to that !!! 
> 
> now I didn't kill of Culber; he's too busy to focus on Paul-- assume he's off official duty as a result and Ash's emotional states hasn't driven him to seek help yet so, either way the gay doc lives!! whoo!! we don't need that unnecessary drama here with what's been happening lol
> 
> now, I'd love to hear your thoughts as always :)


	19. Setting into the new ship

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, this chapter and the next are going to be otherwise filler chapters before we get to the part we all want to be hehe.   
> But it will be a while.  
> I've opted to take part of this year's NaNoWriMo so it might take some time before i chuck antoher chapter out so please be patient while I do this :) I'm looking forwards to this as much as you loyal readers are.

Michael’s eyes darted around as they walked, her senses on high alert as all the sensory information seemed to hit her but she kept her cool; her brain processing it quickly; trying to phase out the screaming and the sounds of electrical cracks that now held Lorca’s cries, the voiced and whispers around her on all decks; mostly on her arrival to the lighting around her that seemed…dimmer but yet full of different things.

Michael was glad though she had plentiful experience on the Discovery to let it almost all go into background noise as she stepped further and further away from the brig; from Lorca. Yet holding up the façade; blinking when needed to, shifting her weight when standing every few minutes; it felt odd but she felt pleased on one thing.

Everyone knew to take her seriously; their own senses no doubt picking up on a threat about her; the slight changes in her face was no doubt unnoticeable; they no doubt saw her attractiveness than think of her as anything other than. She could smell the fear and paranoia but with her; it was different. Subtle. Their hearts beat a little faster, pupils shrunk a fraction…but not too much to question it.

Beside her, she could hear the rapid and nervous heart beat of Captain Connor as they reached the turbolift; the smell of his blood was saturating with the clear signs of anticipation; his fingers twitching, shifting his weight despite standing still as the lift rose. His jaw flexing, debating even to when to speak.

“If you’re planning to attack me, Conner, you really shouldn’t wait.” Michael spoke up. Last thing she needed right now was for him to monologue; the tell-tale signs were there but the options of exposure were limited in the turbolift than the bridge… if Conner was to snap; better _here_ than there.

He didn’t wait. As soon as the words had left her mouth, he reacted. Dagger in hand with no hesitation as he swung it towards her yet in the moments that followed, she could see it as if it was slow motion; his body turning, the blade turned towards her… it wouldn’t even scratch her skin yet she felt the primal urge of the _threat_ come up; her fangs sharpening under her lips. A growl passed her lips before she too reacted back.

Grabbing his wrist and shoved him up against the turbolift doors as if he was rag-doll. Weightless but then she _heard_ it; felt the weak bone under her hand _crunch_ with the metallic amour’s edge that bent under her pinkie finger like rubber; his breath seizing up immediately and his mouth falling open; then he jerked softly; vomiting up a spurt of blood; splashing down onto her arm; filling the lift with the sweet smell that bristled her blood-lust.

Her eyes widened a fraction; the doors behind him opening and she could only watch as he fell back; dead before he hit the floor.

For the moment, only silence rang but she was left starting at his body; feeling the warmth of the blood on his fade away within the second but she knew what she had done wrong; what Lorca had done her not to do. Too much force…. She knew how fragile the human body was, especially in her grip. A light shove from her could do a lot of damage; she had easily crushed his chest so simply and quickly…

Soft clapping though caught her attention; her eyes raising up to the bridge crew. All were looking at her. A part of her mind ever glad her expression hardly changed; if she was human what would her expression even be? A deer in the headlights? But no, her face remained passive despite the flash of violence; she looked uncaring and they didn’t seem at all displeased. All of them seemed amused more than anything.

Michael stepped forwards, keeping the expression as she stepped over the body though scanned her gaze around on the off chance of a suspecting human but there were none.

“The ship is yours, Captain.”

Her eyes zeroed in on Detmer; her face different to her other self; hair on both sides of her skull, pencil straight with no implants at all; two stern eyes looking at her. Though the human dropped her gaze; feeling now the same instinctual fear as everyone else did around her.

“Dispose of him.”

“With pleasure, sir.”

Michael strode forwards with confidence, measuring her speed in her steps. But there was an uncomfortable twist in her gut at the sight of the chair; the chair that belonged to Georgiou in her world. One that she herself had sat in when Georgiou had been elsewhere. Now here she was, sitting in it as a _captain_. Another universe _and_ over a warm corpse. Certainly _not_ how she saw herself get promoted.

Sitting down, she could hear the scraping of Conner's amour as he was dragged off the bridge floor and into the turbo lift and the scrapes of metal as it descended away.

“All hail Captain Burnham, long the empire.” The chant rang through the bridge, sounding like a formalised departure.

“Long live the empire.”

Her eyes followed the view screen; watching discovery as the Shenzhou moved until they re positioned out of sight; the ship lurching into warp. Her fingers tightening on the chair but was careful not to leave a mark or impression in its metallic surface.

Michael couldn’t help the mild frustration…the restraint was maddening.

 

* * *

 

Stepping off the bridge was easy to do, first time she had, she went to her ready room as her contacts were dissolving; a little something she had noticed that Airiam hadn’t told her was the tingle sensation to signify her time to swap it. She took the time to read through the reports of this world too for the rules and general knowledge but hadn’t been able to access the necessary data before she had been interrupted by Detmer.

Since then, she hadn’t been left alone until she found herself walking towards her new quarters; her latest set dissolving as she stepped in the door but the scent and thumping heart beat told her immediately that she wasn’t alone.

“Ash.” She called out softly, startling the man as she darted to sit at the lone seat close to the foot of her bed.

“Dear god, you speed is more terrifying here.” He breathed out heavily.

Michael’s head tilted but rolled her eyes softly. “This is the _only_ place I can use it, Ash. Restraint is…proving much harder than anticipated.” The feel of Conner’s sternum crunching easily coming to mind. Misjudgement. Something she couldn’t repeat again. She should have had more lessons on that; she had gotten far too comfortable using her vampire physiology on Discovery and that everyone knew so they were far too used to her zooming long the corridors like a breeze. Now all of that would easily get her exposed. Even Lorca has told her to find restraint…

Ash stared at her for a long moment, lumbering softly until he sat down at the edge of her bed; the look in his eyes soft. “I heard about Connor.”

The vampire didn’t look up though  she peeled off the amour, wincing as it snapped like dry clay but dropped it off to the floor; she could worry about it later. Her shoes joined the pile.

“You know…I work with humans, I talk and chat with them but… I’ve always retained myself from more physical interactions with them than necessary.” Michael sighed. “My strength… their fragile bodies. It like everyone and everything is made of broken glass. One wrong touch and…it all falls apart.”

“Can’t be easy.”

Michael exhaled lightly. “I never needed to pretend like this, Ash. Even as I was being transferred, I was told to sit down, shut up and put new contacts in when needed to.” That all now seemed like the dream for this situation. Here, she was the new centre of attention. One that unsettled everyone even more. “it also occurred to me that… sun light on the bridge is also another factor we didn’t consider.”

“Wait, I thought you were okay with Sunlight?” His head tilted. “I heard you don’t burn…”

Michael shook her head. “No, it’s not burning but given the nature of my body; the crystalline sort…make the light bounce off my skin. To your eyes, it comes off as a glow and to my eyes; it’s more of a…sparkly effect. I’m surprised you didn’t know.”

“Huh… it’s been a weird week.”

Michael could give him that. Must have slipped his minds as it had with hers. Too late to back out now so she had to work with it. Perhaps it was a good thing the bridge did have it’s filters up on the view screen that blocked enough— why; she had no idea— but it would be a question of time before someone noticed. She’d rather not kill the whole ship if she could help it.

“What about you?” Michael broke out her thoughts, turning her attention to him again. “Our conversion was...broken off before we got here. Are you okay?”

Ash’s face turned away immediately though he exhaled heavily. “Right now… I can. I’m focused when I have a mission. Right now, that mission is to be with you here and to help get you the Intel.”

“I appreciate it, Ash.” Her tone was genuine, her hand coming to touch lightly onto his lower arm. “But…I have to know what that Klingon was for you? If we…come across another version of her in this twisted place, I need to know.”

Ash’s face looked soured and his heart beat thumped a little faster; but not to a worrying degree. He was calm.

“She...” His voice dipped quieter as he spoke, “She…personally tortured me.” His fingers coming to fiddle with the duvet covering. “I…I did what I had to do to survive and she took a…liking to me. I allowed it to continue if it meant living another day.”

Michael’s eyes lowered too. The implication painted a clear picture in her head. “I’m sorry I brought her on board. If I had known—“

Ash shook his head. “No, I said it’s fine that she’s on discovery, Michael. It’s not about me in that regard.”

Michael didn’t know what to say to that so she didn’t say anything but allowed the silence to drift between them. “I am sorry for what happened to you, Ash. But you’re here. You’ve survived this long and you’re too stubborn to give up now.”

A bitter huffed passed his lips though nodded airly. “It’s just exhausting.”

“I know.”

His heart remained to a steady beat, nor could she smell any hint of his body reacting to any sort of PTSD attack though his shoulders were a little more sagged. It was hard to tell if it was out of exhaustion or relief.

“Is there anything I can do to help, Ash?” Her tone remained soft. His lips pursed a fraction, brown eyes flickering around to the room, the door then to the bed.

“Can I…sleep with you?”

“Excuse me.”

“No Sex. Just _sleep_. Here. Your bed. You next to me.” He quickly added, a flush tainting his skin with a hint of embarrassment in the air. “I know we’re friends and we should keep it as that. I’m not ready for sex any time soon but…I do need to feel a sense of security.”

That made a little more sense; she doubted she _could_ have sex with a human. How Paul found his restraint with Hugh was no doubt an imprint thing—she’d rather not ask for tips either. If a light shove killed Conner then clearly she could do a lot worse by being on top… or even as a bottom with  anything between her thighs. But this seemed something she could agree too. Though he’d have to be swaddled up with blankets to sleep without feeling the coldness or hardness of her skin.

 “Okay.”

He let out a heavy breath of relief, a small smile on his lips as his hands came to his jacket zipper to loosen it. “Can I change here?”

Michael nodded with a chuckle. “I think you might draw up attention walking in your night-wear to the captain’s quarters. They might see a different picture.”

That cracked a smile onto his face though he hurried towards the bathroom quickly.

It did cross her mind to stay in her usual working clothes but weighed to switching to nightwear on the off-chance of being disturbed during the night; a captain fully clothed 24/7 would be…unusual after all. Michael pulled a face as she laid it out on the bed, folding her arms over her chest though vaguely heard Ash arrive in just his boxers and under shirt.

“Is that your PJs or lingerie?”

“Maybe they couldn’t decide.” Michael mused softly. But it’d have to do at the end of the day. She doubted Ash would really mind if his sole focus was just to sleep comfortably here. They had their boundary set up and she wouldn’t allow it to be crossed for their safety. “Now, you’ll need to be up early so get in. I’ll join you in a bit. I’ll need to get a few PADDs to read through the night.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

 

* * *

 

Though the hours did pass quickly, having a human sleeping beside her was oddly comforting though she had been careful not to wake Ash when he got cuddly to cover him up in the blanket than waking him with direct skin contact. It seemed his need of security also included the unconscious desire for comfort and intimacy. Not that she blamed him but he certainly didn’t make it easy to adjust.

Ash had stayed asleep the whole time and she had read up through a lot of the empire; rules, regulations, her more in-depth personal file that enlightened her own history. Butcher of the binary stars. Not a nickname she liked. It was nauseating but it didn’t surprise her. All high ranking captains seemed to have nicknames. Though Tilly’s counterpart had a few more which was a surprise.

Michael continued to read until she heard movement getting closer to her quarters. Her body stiffened up though before she dived out the bed for her amour; very aware that she had accidentally Ash awake, her fingers prising off the layers of contact cases from underneath and within a few seconds, shoved a new set into each eye and jumped to her feet as it opened. Her eyebrow rose sharply as she saw who it was.

 _Saru_.

Only this wasn’t him. His counterpart. The way he was dressed said enough, especially how his head bowed. Though like all Kelpiens, his ganglia seemed to extend almost immediately; his instincts triggered but he stayed still, no doubt fighting his entire desire to leave.

With a disgruntled grumble, Ash was quick to get out of bed and start dressing; a part of his mind in a sleepy daze but she said nothing as he left. Her eyes returning to the Kelpien.

“I have...come to preform your daily ablutions.” The Kelpien spoke up, his head tilting ever so to the bath tub.

Michael gave a short nod to proceed but she knew that he’s know she was different when he’d immediately touch her. Not to mention, the tub was in a direct patch of starlight. It’d literally show up. Was this something she could pass off? It was clear as day Kelpiens were the slaves on the ship; devoted to their duty yet would he say anything?

Her eyes watched him work, the discomfort clear to see as he poured the bath water and mixed up the bubble bath that filled the room with a fragrant scent of strawberries and pomegranate. Then he turned to her. She stepped forwards, pausing an inch from the beam of light but he moved and began to help her strip.

It too everything not to freeze up at her own discomfort of this but he was just doing his job; she just had to let him. Though his breath paused as his fingers brushed up the back of her skin; pulling away as the coldness of it. Michael immediacy turned to face him with a passive expression.

“It’s fine.” She spoke calmly.

“Yes, Captain.” Though he swallowed with unease, his fingers once again coming to pull the shoulder down and moved into the light to the stairs to help her in. Michael hesitated, her lips pursing but forced herself to move, stepping into the light and up onto the step, not taking the aiding arm but she knew he was far too distracted as the light bounced off her skin, glistening and lighting up the darker walls around before she sunk into the water and sat back.

“…Captain.”

Her eyes flickered back to him, his eyes lingering on the exposed flesh that lingered in the sun. Her mind scrabbled through the excuses; one that sounded logical to explain the differences if he knew her former counter-part.

The Kelpien moved nonetheless, his heart picking up in pace but he took his wash clothes to follow through.

Michael waited though, watching as he seated himself beside the tub and gently took her hand, stiffening again at the contact but started to clean at her nails.

“This is the result of an experimental procedure after my shuttle went down. I was critically injured. I would not have survived otherwise.” She spoke up, the light beaming between his shoulders to her hand.

“Yes, Captain.” Though she doubted that would do little comfort but it was something to settle the wonder. After all, it was the most plausible one for this world.

 

* * *

 

Michael found herself sinking into a routine of work as the day passed; meeting with Ash, going through intel in her ready room, executing prisoners; the schedule of it simple and growing as they collected more from another ship yet she found herself unable to do more with the data than download it off discreetly to a data chip; but no way to send it to Discovery.

But her concern was more to the slight burning sensation of thirst that started to grow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So please, drop some love and your comments, I'd love to hear your thoughts so far and they're really encouraging. 
> 
> Though I know i'm getting close to canon again but I feel it's sort of necessary at the moment to navigate the new world


	20. Harlak

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God, it's been so long!
> 
> but I've succeeded with my Nanowrimo and that's something. WHoohhoO!
> 
> To why I've also decided to gift you all with a longer chapter for putting up with the wait on my ass and all.  
> Thanks for sticking with me :)

Days passed but her throat burn only increased. It made her crabby and irritable but she restrained herself further to holding her breath at times, consciously shifting her shoulders a fraction to simulate the _appearance_ of breath which while felt stupid. It worked. The bridge crew was none the wiser and kept to their jobs as she sat and stared to the space ahead now the morning executions and jobs on her behalf were done.

Though each breath seemed to feel like she was softly inhaling hot ashes that seemed to cling to her lungs in the pauses between. She remained generous on those between her fake breaths to let the burning subside before any words or the next breath was needed.

Hearing out, she could vaguely hear Ash pacing, running through ship security. His sleep hadn’t been getting better in the last week, worse to the point of him muttering softly in the fragments of Klingon he must have picked up and nightmares that required her to wake him. Lorca was out of his booth; taking the necessary physical recovery though she could make out his heavy breathing…

A low ding brought her mind back to the bridge, eyes flickering to the comms officer as he shifted to the request.

“Incoming hail. Captain Maddox of the Imperial Flag ship seeks and Audience.”

“Acknowledge.” Her voice cool in her reply, the fire of thirst as the crew scent filtered down her throat. Though a few seconds later, a hologram flickered onto the bridge, wearing the same amour and adorned with badges that decorated his amour. A smugness hung around him that leaked through the hologram.

“Michael Burnham in the flesh. Then it’s true. The Emperor will be very pleased.”

Michael nodded once, “As am I to have returned.” She didn’t indulge further small talk though raised her eyebrow to him to get to the point, he didn’t seem the type to beat around the bush.

Maddox didn’t. “The Emperor has a Mission.” Maddox moved forwards but she didn’t move, nor get up. Why should she, given they were the same rank. “Your first dip back into the fray.”

“I’m more than up for the challenge.”

“Imperial Intelligence has uncovered the location of the fire wolf.”

“Hm.” Her late night readings, Klingon leader of the resistance. “I am aware of his…attempts against the empire. Hardly an example given his allies die around him.” She forced herself a subtle smile, as if amused but she knew the task at hand before he said it. It was clearer than crystal.

“His base is located on Harlak. I’m sending you the coordinates now. Your mission is simple.” One of the consoles dinged in response to the new data

“Terran General Order Four. Any exotic species deemed a threat to the imperial supremacy will be extinguished without prejudice.” She recited.

“Kill them all. Your Emperor demands it.”

The hologram flickered and died but she felt cold. The entire prospect of death on such a _scale_ … no mercy, no negotiations… not even provoked. Michael knew there was a fine line that while she was a killer, but this… this wasn’t her. It showed her enough; that she wasn’t the monster when the humans of this world were much worse to do that. Genocide. She’d never stoop that low… How could she live with her existence after that?

“Tactical, prep photon torpedoes for launch.” Detmer spoke up, her fingers running over her screen but Michael’s eyes narrowed before she rose fluidly to her feet.

“ _Don’t_ anticipate me, Number one.” Her cool voice stern that immediately set a colder air in the bridge, a few gazes turning to her warning that hung in the back. “I give the orders here.”

In her mind, a draft of an idea was forming between the spaces between the human breaths. She had to try and do something. Anything that could go hand in hand with her cover… Nothing she’d could do up here. She needed to be on that planet. Warning them… even with the possibility of failure, the attempt would sooth the ache of necessity of cover if she _had_ to follow through. She’d have to look at the planet itself to find a solution to hand over to them; one that in turn could enacted _fast_. 

Detmer look surprised, masking the emotion quickly with a blink. “But sire, we have our orders.”

“No.” Michal corrected, “Those orders were _mine_.” Her expression stayed the same, stepping closer to the first officer with a look of warning that made the terran shift with discomfort, looking away. “You follow _my_ orders. Right now, I need more satisfaction than just… orbital bombing. I want to get my hands _dirty_.” Her lip curled but her eyes remained fixed on the woman before she turned and gave each one of her bridge crew a warning look as she paced. “Do you think it was at all _easy_ , tracking Lorca? What I did to get to him... the bodies I stepped over?” She allowed a picture to be painted; let them interpret it how they wanted. “Right now, I see this as an opportunity to get more than their deaths.”

Michael turned towards the door, her gaze returning to Detmer. “I’ll infiltrate the rebel base myself and get the intel to bury the rebellion.” Her gaze pressed on the human, testing to see if there was an argument. There was none.

* * *

“This is crazy!” Ash paced around her ready room, agitated as he tossed the little metal ball he had recently replicated into his other hand and back. “This will get you exposed for sure!”

“I’ve been over the planet’s schematics, the fire power the ship has, the damage one could hit and the time and chance the people has. We just need to deliver and insist. It’s simple.” Michael answered, uploading the schematics to a chip.

“How can you be so _calm_ about it?” He continued to walk around, the movements almost annoying her but she was growing used to his behaviour if it kept him calm in the moments away from his cover. “It’s really starting to creep me out now.”

Michael tittered softly, her dark-coloured gaze flickering away from the PADD to his face. “Do not mistake my demeanour as carelessness, Ash.  I am worried about our cover. It’s why it’s only us two going down and not a landing party.”

“Why do you think they’ll actually listen?  I mean, we’ll be dressed in our Terran gear! They could shoot us on the spot.”

“My chances are significantly better but I believe I can be persuasive. I’m not human and I can show it. They’ll be forced to see when the sun light comes out.” Enough to hesitate, enough for her to show her speed, her strength. That she was superior to even then but willing to talk; it had to say something. “I’ve devised a working system to help and it should be efficient.”

“What if another ship decides you’re too slow? And does it themselves, _while we’re down there?!”_

Michael didn’t answer. It was in consideration; but the ‘reward’ would no doubt lay the need for their return before the bombing, to why she needed to insist on the timing. “When we better hope for the best.” Her eyes returned to her screen detaching the chip and stowed it away in put in her last set of contact lenses.

“What about your thirst?” Ash continued, stopping—finally— and turning to face her properly, a look of concern crossing over his face. “I know you’re hurting.”

“I can handle it.” Though his reminder didn’t help; flaring the dry ache that made her eye him a little; the pulse in his throat…his scent ever so appealing. Michael blinked, trying to draw her mind from going there. Last thing she needed was to snap and kill Ash. “Let’s go.”

* * *

Beaming down, Michael almost wanted to groan at the sensations; then the sudden sensory overload;

Sunlight suddenly filtering into her vison; fracturing off dull rocks; the heat of it against her cool skin, to the sudden sounds of air whistling around them; uplifting small pebbles and stones that tickled, the rush of plants in the distant to thudding heartbeat’s around that immediately called to her; and their steps. Smells though, they were equally overwhelming; dirt, mud and a mixture of scents hung in the wing; pollen and dust too… then a closing whistle too high pick for nature that Michael realised it was a projectile.

She didn’t hesitate to move; moving Ash in a heartbeat from danger’s reach. The moment in her speed that suddenly stretched as she darted towards it; coming to see a Tellarite with a weapon; an Andorian not too far with his own. With a flutter, she pushed the weapon from their grip and tossed it away by a distance; leaving their hand weapons for themselves for the sake of good will and their own sense of security before darting back to Ash’s side and stood motionless though with her hands up in a universal sign of surrender

Ash flinched but she knew the sunlight was glistening off her skin; radiating off even. Around them, the others were gathering their bearing and she could see a Vulcan look at her narrowed though yet taking it all in.

“We’re here to talk.” Michael called out, her voice her usual calm. “I request the presence of your leader.” Her eyes flickered to the Andorian as his phaser was out and set to kill, most weapons were to her than Ash, which was pleasing though a part of her mind wanted her to growl and bar her teeth at the threat behind it. But she withheld the urge.

“You’re not human?” The Andorian questioned.

“Not anymore.” Michal answered, truthfully. “I am what you call a Vampire. But, the Empire remain unaware of my transformation but that it not why I am here. I _need_ to talk to the Fire Wolf.”

The group remained uncertain though the Andorian pulled her phaser from the holster and Ash’s too then pushed them along, Michael went willingly though she felt the Tellarite recoil as his finger touched over her pinkie.

Though they set the pace, the walk towards their base became more evident; she could hear…lot more that came more into focus with each agonisingly slow step. Heartbeats mostly; thundering around in the hundreds like drum beats, differing in size mostly. The smells too, Andorian, Klingon, Vulcan… no human scents. More she could pick up but she didn’t know which species they were without seeing them. Though, the Klingon blood was smelling much, more appealing over Ash’s. Venom pooled into her mouth but she swallowed it back. Stopping at the order until a Klingon stepped forwards and then, like a curtain dropping; the base camp swam into view. Cloaked. Interesting.

As they walked towards it, Michael took the time to remove her contacts and toss them away (mostly due to the fact they’d be more paranoid on her reaching for her pocket), exposing her thirsty-black eyes from the brown.

* * *

They were directed in towards a main tent like structure; where she noted the long conference table, where the group converged.

Michael spared a glance as the rebellion group, watching as they sat at the table, joining a few Vulcans and another few awaiting Klingons. A few frowns pulling on their faces at the sight of her presence though she opted for their comfort to sit. To look less imposing despite their senses on high alert.

Behind her, Ash stood though she felt a pit of worry for him. Klingons. His heart rate had started to pick up; she could smell the growing sweat on his skin too, saturating into his scent.

She licked her lips though stayed motionless as she listened out as one Klingon left, scurrying away to a side tent. Listening out, she could make out two scents; a Vulcan and Klingon.

 _“The Terran Captain Burnham is here.”_ The Klingon spoke in their native tongue, hushed _, “She’s come to see you…”_

 _“Burnham?”_ There was almost a growl in the Leader’s voice. _“I thought she was dead.”_

_“I do not understand it but she’s very much alive… but different. Something about her…”_

_“Where?”_

_“The other tent, my lord.”_

Steps echoed though she pulled her hearing back though her eyes flickered to the flap door before a Klingon strode out. Unlike the Klingons of her world, they were subtlety different in posture. He hadn’t tried to kill her upon sight though shie noted his his eyes narrowed and face flushed.

“You’re the fire wolf.” A statement more than a question.

“So we finally meet..” The Klingon spoke. “I am Voq, Son of none.” He introduced though she watched he continued to examine her; he knew something was off, but he couldn’t place it. It hung in the air though she held herself with dignity at the end of his gaze, not blinking. His face frowned though steadily moved forwards. “My spies told me you were dead. I must admit we rejoiced at this news.”

“They weren’t wrong.” Her tone remained the same though  she saw the quizzical flash in his eyes, though she got up from her chair and stepped into the light with one hand out, direct that crept through the gaps of the tent; allowing the beam to touch her skin; her eyes watching his face; though could see the light tinkling off on her peripheral and how it bounced onto his face that lit his pale skin up by a shade.

There was a sharp intake of breath though Voq moved forwards, his hand coming to her outstretched his, a large hand wrapping around her wrist; eyes fixed to her glistening skin though he immediately let go, the his brow shooting up, though she knew he was more confused but her proof of her statement wasn’t false. She couldn’t fake her skin, nor her crystalline nature.

“I was…transformed into this species against my will. The empire remains unaware of my change and they’d not hesitate to try and kill me permanently if they knew. I am here against their orders.”

Voq paced, unsettled as his eyes flickered to his group. “Is that why you’re here? For aid?”

“No.” Within a heartbeat, she pulled out her data ship and placed it into the holo-projector in the centre of the table but didn’t active it. “I am here to help you.” Gesturing towards it calmly. “This base has been discovered, I have been ordered to destroy it by the Emperor. I have no intentions to kill hundreds to their death.”

“The Terran Empire would never grant such a mercy.”

“Given recent events, I’m acting against the empire and Emperor.”

Voq’s eyes never left though she held his gaze but there wasn’t enough for him. He wouldn’t take her word without proof…. Even if she wasn’t human; that for the moment was enough to listen but action was another matter. “I cannot take your word for it. I cannot put the lives of our people into the hands of yours”

“I understand.”

“But, there might be a way… I cannot ignore the possibility of a threat either. Bring out the Prophet.”

Then, the clear scent of the Vulcan became clear; steps and heartbeat was enough to indicate male… though she froze for a moment as her black eyes settled onto the familiar— _almost_ familiar— face of Sarek; Vog spoke but she understood what was to be done so she ignored him. The goatee of Sarek’s face was… off to say the least. Michael had never seen him before with a thread of facial hair... but his eyes, they looked at her with _nothing_. Not that she expected there to be recognition but the sensation of it was _unsettling_.

Sarek stopped though he looked at her in a very calculating manner, her appearance, the shine and her eyes… before his hands rose.  Her eyes flickered to them briefly though turned her body to face him fully, her hands resting on her knees and tilted her head up.

Though she closed her eyes as she felt the warmth of his skin over her face; settling to the meld-point though she could feel immediately the usual recoil before his fingers pressed onto her stone flesh; the touch in her mind immediately set her on edge; a low growl resonating in her chest, her fangs sharpening out but she forced herself back from the urge to shove him away; to let him enter.

_“My mind to your mine, my thoughts to your thoughts.”_

Then he delved and she stiffened up from lashing out; her memories being brushed aside; the feel of her Sarek’s katra.

_Images cradling her face as he brought her back from that darkness to the learning centre; the pit that was semi-destroyed; the cries of Vulcans…the other children hurt or killed._

_Then there she was, weeks before the explosion, looking up to him, her thudding heart in her chest; trying to push her feelings away from the test; the memories that had stirred…_

_Then the memories changes. Older now. Graduation. The dress so smart and the excitement of her future at her fingertip. Amanda talking to her kindly. “..You’ve proven you’re accomplished as any Vulcan, which is going to serve you well as long as you never forget you’re human too.”_

_More memories flashed, brief on her time on the Shenzhou; Georgiou’ smiling face… then the Klingon object; then her captain’s body in her mind; her body far too slow but the images of her were laid out in front of her; her captain’s gaze empty; body still with the Klingon weapon in her chest_

_Then she was standing, facing the admiral’s at her court martial. “To the charge of mutiny, how do you plea?_

_“Guilty” the words echoing around before the scene changes. Prison, the guards, the cell…_

_Then the sudden appearance of a woman in her cell, dressed in the guard’s uniform; her face shrouded by darkness but the glint of red eyes flashed in the light…_

**_Crack_ **

Michael was aware they both flinched at that; the pain in the memory filtering through to them both but she had to see… theses memories; she hadn’t been able to retrieve them before; the trauma had covered them; Sarek was the means to recover them… she had to see who’s face it was.

“Keep going.”

She could feel through the link the reluctance but he complied; more causation as he flickered through that evening’s nights; _almost relieving with her the feel of her bones break, the agony of the woman’s torture but she could feel that Ice-like grip on her face; so cold, merciless and but there was little light as she struggled to stay conscious; unable to feel much more of her body now; she could feel the throbbing of the skin above the break…._

_‘You shouldn’t have gotten involved…” The voice was melodic, like wind chimes in a giggle that sent a shiver down her spine though she fought to open her eyes, her gaze locking onto the woman’s face a few feet away; light streaming through the cell window… the star’s light glistening off her skin, her pale skin, dotted with her blood, eyes a bright ruby red, her hair blond but the redness of the light had made it tinted to the human memory… then the glitter of her fangs before the eruption of the burning; the start of the transformation….”_

Then Sarek began to pull away from her mind. Her eyes flickering open, becoming aware of the silence around them… and the face she had a hold of both his wrist in a very tight grip. Michael blinked once, letting go though she watched as he stepped away; his face pale though almost astounded and confused.

“You did not remember?”

She knew what he was referring to. “Human memories are…unreliable in traumatic events…especially in the transformation.” But her face now, it was scorched into her vampire memory; her creator’s face…

“Sarek, what did you see?” Voq inquired, standing closer now, his hand flexing on his Mek’leth.

Sarek inhaled deeply, his hands coming to rub at his wrist, eyes flickering to her data chip. “She means us no harm.” He answered. “But the threat she describes is real. We may not have a lot of time with everything considered. We need an _immediate_ evacuation to be stared.” The Vulcan moved swiftly to the chip, turning on the projector but the urgency wasn’t missed by the group. Some of the group rose to their feet, Voq eyed her wearily but didn’t look to rebuke Sarek’s word.

“I have complied the immediate locations best suited for your supplies. I know the caves are most likely where you hold your current ships and further supplies and they’re fortunately to be deep enough that photon torpedoes won’t collapse the caves but that will have to be your sanctuary if you’re to survive.” Michael answered, Voq pulling the projectors closer before he nodded softly.

“An attack may be imminent. Lieutenant Tyler has considered an attack from another ship if the Shenzhou delays too long.” Sarek pointed out but Michael’s attention turned as Sarek recalled his existence to her.

Her eyes turned to him. Ash’s face was pale, sweat clung to his skin much more that it almost seemed to seep into his uniform, his heart thumped widely in his chest and his eyes almost glazed as he breathed heavily as he looked in a haze around but it was clear to day to her; something was going to happen.

Then it did

“ _Remain Klingon!”_ the words that left his lips were in Klingon but he shoved himself forwards but Michael reacted the fasted with a growl. She immediately grabbed him and locked him into an immediate headlock. Though she was ever present on not squeezing too hard; the vivid reminder of Connor’s chest caving running through her mind but she felt his body go limp after 10 seconds of his struggle before she let go and lay him to the floor; his breathing still laboured in his unconscious state; catching his breath.

“I apologise.” Michael spoke as she straightened up, her eyes to Voq on Tyler’s behaviour though the Klingon growled but nodded. After all, she had detained the threat before he hurt anyone but… she had to talk to Ash…. It didn’t surprise her that he knew Klingon; he spent a long enough time with them to pick it up but… something had changed in his eyes, the moment before he moved. What was that?

“Start the evacuations to the caves systems. Everyone to take something and to leave what we can live without or replace.” Voq called out, though she heard a subtle alarm ring out, enough that it wouldn’t attacked notice of her ship but enough to her ears that things were picking up. More of the group vanished to help though Michael lent down to help Ash to his feet; noting his much calmer demeanour as he woke; though the look hovered in his eyes.

“One more thing, Voq.” She let go off Ash’s hand and moved to Voq. “I came here under a cover of gathering intel. I cannot return empty handed but _something_ should be good enough to satisfy the crew on my ship.”

Voq’s eyes flickered passed her but nodded.”Shukar.”

Behind her, the Andorian moved, her focus shifting and watched as he tapped on a computer screen, which whirled and trilled before he pulled out a Vulcan data ship and held it out to her

“This contains data locations of rebel listen stations in this quadrant. Heavily encrypted and by the time the Empire will get into it, we would have rendered the Intel will be inactionable.” The Andorian spoke. Though he seemed less trusting, the urgency of the matter was calling.

Michal nodded, taking it from him but kept her grip on it lose; it was after all more fragile in her grip than a bone was. “I can try and give you an hour for you to flee into hiding. I’ve also included Intel on the Terran ships’ shielding, weapons _and_ communications.”

“Thank you.” Sarek spoke up, nodding with gratitude.

Michael nodded, licking her lips again though she felt her fangs finally retract to her normal canines before she pulled out a fresh pack of contact lenses and stuck them in before her gaze returned to Ash. He looked away, abashed though pulse still racing but he was still calm.

Knowing there was nothing more she could do, Sarek nodded for their permissions to leave though she was glad to hear all around the movement of crates and leaving feet. They had a chance now.

Taking a hold of Ash’s tactical vest and side. She darted away.

* * *

Getting back to the Shenzhou was easy, handing off the chip to Detmer but having them hold off on the firing until her order; after all she had other things to attend to. Such as Ash.

She stormed her way back to her quarters, Ash following like a puppy but he knew he was in trouble.

“What the hell was that all about?” Michael demanded as soon as the doors shut, turning to face him with an intense glare. Ash shrank away but his body stiffened.

“I’m sorry!”

“Not the answer I am looking for. Ash.”

Ash let out a heavy breath, shaking his head. “I… I just had a panic.”

“No, your panics attacks or anxiety attacks are different to what I just saw. You almost _attacked_ one of them…” Michael didn’t need to raise her voice but the sternness of her tone was enough to display her anger. “I knew you’d have difficulties but I cannot allow this to happen again! You could have blown our cover down there…. Not to mention risk the lives of our crew in the process in this…lapse of judgement.”

“You’re the one that invited me down there!” His face flushed with anger.

“Captains cannot go into enemy territory alone, Ash. It’s protocol and it would have looked suspicious If I went down there on my own, let alone without a landing party.” Her eyebrow rose. “Since when did you start raising your voice at me?”

“Because you’re not!” Ash moved forwards though his pulse once again spiking as a new flush coloured his cheeks. “I am trying, Michael. Trying to hold onto myself here and It’s so hard! I see Klingons, I see myself being strapped down and cut up to pieces… I remember the pain and the agony and wishing they’d let me die!” More blood seemed to flush his face, though the anger sung in his blood, the raw emotions igniting the heat that wafted towards her.

Michael held her breath; not to let that distract her. “Believe it or not, I’ve had those same feelings too. It’s literally made me what I am but,” She sucked in a burning breath for more oxygen to speak, “that should not be an excuse to attack someone I was trying to build trust with. You were fine with the other Klingons. Nervous but fine but as soon as Voq came out, you changed. Why?”

Ash didn’t answer but he moved around, pacing with a fresh need; adrenaline kicking up into his blood next that almost made his hands shake. 

_“I don’t know.”_

“Liar.”  She could hear it in his pulse, the subtle _change_.

His jaw clenched though he stopped suddenly, hands clenching tightly and his eyes closed; then she was surprised how his body chemistry changed in the second. His pulse slowing, his adrenals were still raised but a sudden calmness over took his entire posture. Ash opened his eyes before he turned to face her, face calm and void of anxiety; the look in his eye was different; as if he was someone else.

Her eyes narrowed.

 _“Funny.”_ His words were different as he spoke but not in Federation standard, but Klingonese. _“Liar…”_

“Ash.” Michael stepped forwards. “What’s going on?” Her voice echoed in Klingon too.

 _“All it took was one conversation with L’rell… I didn’t need to see her again but… there was always this internal conflict.”_ His words continued, a faraway look appearing in his gaze. _“Human. Klingon… One body…”_

“Ash.”

 _“We needed to know the truth… your science…your ship.”_ His gaze returned to her. _“but you… you made things complicated for us.”_ From his side, he pulled the dagger from his sheath. Her eyes flickered to it but she didn’t fear attack but she couldn’t deny her worry now; this clearly wasn’t Ash… what had they _done_ to him _?  “No metal that can break your skin… no poison to shut down your organs… too fast to see… hearing too good to plot against. Nature’s **perfect** monster. **I** cannot hurt you. ”_ He chuckled, twiddling the knife. _“But you rely on **one** thing…. One thing that can make you **snap**_.” Ash moved closer, a foot away now with stranger’s eyes. Cold and calculating.

But she couldn’t stop him ask he suddenly plunged the knife into his palm. Dark red blood suddenly spurting from around the blade and the scent suddenly shot up her nose and igniting the burning ache that felt like a fire in her throat; the _yearning_ of need suddenly at the forefront of her mind; to drink; to get rid of this burning with his blood…. The blood smelt too good… so fresh…venom pooled into her mouth though she didn’t hesitate to grab his wrist, her eyes locked onto his hand… watching as the red built up onto his palm….

“Captain!” The voice was almost meaningless, until she watched Ask fly back; his wrist slipping out of her grasp though it took a second to see Saru’s counterpart next to her; his ganglia extended but the door opened. “This man made an attempt on the captain’s life!”

Ash seemed to pick himself up and tried to fight but she watched simply as he was dragged away; overcome by the other guards but she felt… _distant_.

“Are you _alright_?” Michael blinked as Saru moved in front of her, blocking her sight but she held her breath; a part of her mind returning as she swallowed and nodded. She brushed passed him, saying nothing though a sense of coldness settled in her gut; the feeling of anger… frustration, the _thirst_ … she had almost exposed herself. She had almost…

“Captain.” Detmer’s voice broke her out her mind, her demeanour shifting back like a glove. Yes. Captain.

Her head turned to see her stop a few feet away; those eyes watching as Ask was dragged away.

“I’ll alert the transporter room.”

Michael nodded. Of course. He was exposed; Saru’s quick thinking helped her but condemned him… but this.. this bought the rebels their time too but Discovery would no doubt in rage to get to him before he would die. He’d go to Discovery… Michael could see the opportunity… at least there, Ash could get some help. Whatever the Klingons did to him, it had to be removed; if possible… 7 months, torture and no one could consider he had been brain washed?

“Officer Tyler’s swift execution will leave a valuable message to the crew. I know you vaulted his service but laws apply.”

“So ordered, Number One.” Her tone void of emotion. She turned on her tail, back to her quarters and heard her scamper off, her boots slipping on the floor as she went. Michael’s attention turned to see Saru retrieving the bloodied dagger, mopping up the droplets of blood but the reminder sent a whirl of flames down her throat.

She stiffened up and held her breath as she retrieved the data chip and left him to it. She had to.

* * *

Pushing aside her feelings. Michael stood in her ready room, her mind replying the events of Ash’s ‘execution’. Discovery should have the intel… She just had to hope.

Her eyes turned to the door though she couldn’t help the swell of relief as Lorca was shoved though the door.

His face was pale and clammy but she couldn’t see any permanent damage; though she could feel his pulse was elevated and his breathing laboured. As soon as the doors closed. Michael drafted to her office desk and pulled out a hypospray.

“What happened?” Lorca asked, hisses as she gave him the shot but relief sagged in his shoulders as the pain edges off. Placing the hypospray down, Michael signed heavily out.

“I think the Klingons brain washed Tyler. He tried to expose my nature.”

Lorca frowned deeply. “Expose?”

“Blood.”

“Ah..” A look of understanding passing his face. “How is it?”

Michael licked her lips. “Hard. I do what I can to stop thinking about it but… Ash has just… unsettled me… I didn’t realise how thirsty I am now…” Even looking at Lorca now, his blood, as trained as it was with the medication, smelt good. See it under his skin. “Silver lining, Discovery has the data.”

Lorca nodded though his lips remained purse. “We can’t leave. Not until we knew for sure they have a way out.”

“I’ve barley been in contact with them, Sir. Stamets is… still in construction but in shape, is next to done. His head is…yet to be seen.” Which was something. But what state of mind would he be in later? But she knew Lorca had a point, but her thirst… her hunger wouldn’t hold out for much longer. She _had_ to feed, sooner or later… _someone_ would have to die for her to satisfy that need. Today had shown she wouldn’t have hesitated to slip up at the opportunity of spilt blood… but it was a reminder; she _had_ to maintain control.

“Captain, we’ve got a power surge; someone else is targeting Harlak.”

“The evacuation…” Her head shot towards the door, darting at in in a heartbeat…. She knew by now most of the rebel’s would have found shelter… yet she uncertainty plagued her stomached.

The doors opened and she forced herself slow only to see a stream of lights, like a comets impact into the surface… burning thousands of miles wide in a moment. Lighting up the screen to the point where she stepped back; hoping none looked to her to see it’s reactions to her skin…Then slowly, the lights dimmed away to scorched lands…. Devastation so clear.. _Merciless_ …

“Incoming transmission from the Emperor.”

It only took a moment before she felt herself freeze up; eyes widening as the hologram of the Emperor flickered into view…

Her dark hair was straight, decorated with lush golden ornaments, her skin flushed in the shade of beige in way her own memory recalled of her; her face _just_ like the woman she knew but… the expression was different. Cold and void of…compassion. Philippa Georgiou was the Terran Emperor?

“Captain Michael Burnham...”

God, even her voice sounded the same… Michael crossed her arm over her chest and bowed; respectfully but it seemed to satisfy the ghost… but a new sense of coldness seemed to fill her now…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehe so we're about a chapter away before we finally get to Georgiou!! heheheheheh So looking forwards to that.   
> I've got a lot to work with now and shit may hit the fan and that's gonna be eppic!!
> 
> Love to hear your thoughts and wonders. 
> 
> Though I am in some mild debate on what to do with Ash; have him like a Klingon in a human body like canon OR have him human but brainwashed with a klingon personality under his current? Ideas? (plus what Ash believes may not be true depending on which idea works best so it won't go against what I've written))


	21. Emperor Georgiou

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> drumrooll!!!!
> 
> the chapter we've all beeeeeennn waaaiiting for: Philippa Georgiou!!!!
> 
> heheheh
> 
> this is actually the first chapter I wrote for this fic but you know... you have to do the start of the book and lead up to it, lol.  
> So here it is!
> 
> I was gonna post it tomorrow but... well i had it done and I really want to hear your thoughts!! Remember, drop some of your love and your thoughts on it; love all of them and they're a real mood- booster for me :)

The shuttle craft shook as they departed from the ISS Shenzhou. Michael felt to some relief that they were leaving; less eyes on them and she didn’t have to hide her true nature until they got to the Charon. She licked her lips a little, not that it smudged her lipstick but she could feel the aches of her thirst spike up again as she put the shuttle into warp, ignoring the familiar voice monotone how far they were to the imperial Palace and the fact she had put them onto Auto-pilot.

She spun on her chair to face Lorca though and darted to sit beside him, making him flinch but he chuckled. “I hope you’ve got your speed under control. Last thing we both need is a slip up.”

“Of course I have.” Michael remarked. “I’ve had plenty of practice.  No one on the Shenzhou were any wiser.” Though as she spoke, she felt her last set of contacts dissolve to expose her ink black irises. She blinked softly though her fingers came to her next set hidden under her amour and opened it up, plucking out the first brown contact and leant her head back as it slipped in though immediately her focus immediately went to the wrapped plastic, feeling as it slipped into place. “It doesn’t help I’m _starving_.” She added as she put in the other one.  

“It’s too risky to feed, Michael.” He sighed out softly.

Michael pulled out a hypospray. “I know… but you look like a really tempting juice box to me right now so…” She heard him chuckle again softly as she clicked the serum into the canister and pressed it into his neck; injecting him with the nerve numbing concoction thought the scent it gave off as it spread did smell much more _deterring_. “Just as you requested, I’ve recreated Pollard’s nerve shot”

“Much appreciated.” He nodded though his hand caught hers as she went to put it back, her eyes darted to his hands, though eyed him warily at the gesture alone— a part of her knew it was supposed to be assuring but the touch didn’t help when the feel went straight to her throat. He swallowed then let go in realising as such, picking up the PADD she had.

It was the data Saru had sent her. Lorca had been right, the Defiant data had been otherwise useless.

“I can see what you’ve uncovered is…redacted.”

Michael nodded, somewhat glumly. Disappointing but not overly surprising. But it just didn’t help them. “Saru sent it to me before we departed but there’s enough for us to work with. It’s given us a potential lead, through what the Terrans call _Interphasic space_ but the location isn’t…available to us.”

“So we need the original report… maybe it’s a good thing we’re going to the Charon. Of all the palaces, that’s where the Intel would be. Once you have it, you can get us out. You’re on top of the food chain now.”

Michael shook her head. “I can’t just kill a whole bunch of people, I am _capable_ of it, sure but that’s not what I want to be.” The Klingon ship had reminded her of that…. she wasn’t that type of monster when she had the choice.

“Sometimes what you _want_ isn’t something you can survive by. As I said and I _keep_ saying, we _have_ to do what we can, to whoever for survival. You _have_ to use your nature to get what you need. No one knows but us on that ship on _what_ you are. You’ve got your thirst under control and your rank will allow you a good amount of access to data without exposing yourself.”

Michael shook her head. “You say it like it’s easy.”

“You know me, Michael. I’m a survivor. We’re in the grey area. Starfleet’s principles cannot be applied this far deep into this mission. Risks are too high. You understand.”

Michael didn’t answer but she retook her pilot seat in a heartbeat. She understood the risks. Out of everyone on the ship, she was the biggest risk to let loose. Especially _now_.

“You have nothing to fear on that Ship, Michael, Trust yourself.”

She shook her head. “Philippa’s on the ship.”

“She’s not _your_ Philippa, she’s dead. _Emperor_ Philippa is a completely different person.”

“She still has her face.” Michael countered closing her eyes, the image of Philippa’s dead body flashing in front of her, once hazy; like looking through frosted glass; everything seen and heard through dull senses but the image was still a part of her, it defined her. This mirror Sarek had somehow brought it more to her clarity of memory. Now, to see a woman so _distorted_ in comparison… _this_ Philippa Philippa… it only shed so much pain that on the fact that she _lived_ here, in _this_ reality. The woman was cruel for the necessity of her position as Emperor. Cruel because she _liked_ it. Logic told her enough that this wasn’t the woman she betrayed but it strung enough of her emotions….

“She’s a ghost of who you know. A fake. A mirror of the woman you know. Don’t let her face throw you off if—and _if_ … you need to sacrifice her to save us all.”

“I don’t think I can bring myself to murder her…. I caused her death the first time around. I don’t have it in me to do it again.”

“You’ll do anything for the sake of your crew, Michael.” His tone hardened in his words

 _‘Warp drive disengaged. Imperial place secure perimeter detected.”_ The anonymous voice spoke up, the whole craft dropping out of warp that made her stomach churn.

 _‘ISS Shenzhou shuttlecraft identity confirmed. You’re cleared to approach the Charon.”_ The radio binged on and called though. Michael turned the auto off and took the reins, feeling the need for some control while she could as they landed.

Lorca grasped her hand again for a mere second as she went for his cuffs, to put the show back on and she gave him a tug up as the doors opened, blanking her expression as she led the way.

* * *

The welcoming committee was as expected as the shuttle, the traditional salute before two guards stepped behind Lorca and beside her and immediately started the lead from the craft and along the golden corridors. Heavy scents all around her clawed at her throat, though the heat of so many people didn’t help the pain in her throat die down; all around her, she could hear _everything_ … particularly the hundreds of _heartbeats_ that felt like temping music, each thump like drums to her ear drums. So many people… _humans_.

She swallowed thickly, looking behind her to make sure that Lorca was at the right distance, but she wanted to see someone who could offer _some_ grounding, and she got it, subtle in his eyes as they locked eyes but she turned her back.

Her mind easily memorising each passageway, the guards and their weapons. Some hearts were fast; the fear ever present despite the façade. Down below, she could hear screams and the buzzing electricity. The static core in the ships power felt like a tickle over her skin, much more sensitive than the humans.  It made her want to shiver in its power.

Her eyes came to the grand corridor, leading to a huge set of golden doors and decorated arches of metal and the light that reflected off it all. So much darker shades, her own brilliant vision could see that despite this, there was huge amount of unseen colours that lit it up much brighter; showing smudges of the manufacturing, the blemishes in the smooth metallic work of how each sheet was casted. All this offered visual distractions as the doors were opened.

Immediately, the scents of close bodies increased tenfold that scotched her throat with dry thirst Forcing her to hold her breath just to escape the pain; to keep her head straight ahead. Her hands clenched at her side and the squeak of Lorca’s shoe was enough that he had noticed her change of demeanour and telling her so to keep with it in the only way he could.

_Focus…_

Jaw clenched, she forced herself to stay in pace, barely listening as Captain Maddox called out the titles of the emperor as they passed rows and rows of hot human bodies. Each a calling card. No. _Focus_.

Meters from the end, two guards held the flags of the empire, shrouding the stage of the seatless throne, Maddox at front before he started to move off to the side.

“…All hail the Emperor Philippa Philippa Augustus Iaponius Centarius.” The captain called out and in sync, the guards parted as the circular stage spun, revealing the Emperor in the _flesh_. Dressed in impressive cold amour and a huge train-jacket that held a huge neck.

Her face was almost exactly as she remembered in the old Philippa; eyes, lips, the dark hair that flowed; straightened out by heat and decorated with a golden ornament but the difference was the expression lines that rested in her face and in her gaze.

“All hail the emperor.” Everyone called out, bowing. Michael followed immediate suit, straightening up Philippa’s spin in motion of the others though the Terran Emperor’s eyes were to her familiar stranger as she descended from her stage towards them. Her eyes fixed on her if for a moment then passed to Lorca, the heel of her shoes clapping like thunder in Michael’s ears, though relatively dull by human comparison on the smooth floor. Philippa looked like a lioness; by her golden colours and her expression, she carried the air of authority that was unquestionable. Michael couldn’t read the expressions in her face.

“May I present to you, Captain Michael Burnham of the Imperial Starship Shenzhou” Captain Maddox continued.

The Emperor stopped at the top of the stairs, her gaze fully onto her but Michael stayed still as a statue, staring back as she was assessed though it seemed to satisfy Philippa that there was a hint of uplift in the lines of her lips. A clear sign that she thought her Terran Counterpart. Cover maintained

“Captain Michael Burnham.” She spoke, musing, her eyes moving down from her face though what she was checking for Michael couldn’t tell, “A face I never thought I’d see in the flesh…” her arm rose to the side, displaying three Kelpiens standing as if waiting. To the side. “Choose one.”

Michael turned her focus from Philippa to the Kelpiens. For what, Michael didn’t know, but from her experiences around Saru, Kelpien’s blood wasn’t to her taste. It was far too…weak to satisfy her needs. Their all-vegetation diets lacked the transition of nutrients of proteins that humans and other meat eaters had. Their heart beats were fast in their chest and all three of their ganglia were extending; no doubt in her presence; their senses were no doubt going haywire with the danger she presence that aroused their instincts. Top of the food chain.

With masked regret, she pointed to the smallest one. “That one.” She spoke though she was forced to inhale to speak and internally cursed with the heavy scent directly from the Emperors wake but the perfume she wore masked most of the delicious scent of blood that pumped under the skin; her hair and jacket also helped in concealing her jugular. Michael cut off her air flow again, watching as the Kelpien was pushed to follow passed them before Philippa spoke again.

“I see you brought a gift.” A smirk touched her lips, emotions burning behind her eyes though this was her cue. Stepping aside, she guested an arm out to Lorca, plastering a false smile onto her lips.

“Gabriel Lorca,” The two guards that held him moved forwards towards the Emperor and shoved him forwards. “Delivered to the Emperor’s justice and long overdue.” She carried on, her eyes on Lorca’s back as he straightened up. His heart beat measured and calm in his chest, even as the Emperor slowly stepped down; one at a time and looked at him as if he was prey.

“I don’t bow. Not even to you.” He spoke bluntly, sounding confident in his words despite the situation she had led him into. A good act of defiance as any prisoner would.

Philippa smirked, though turned to one of her guards who immediately stepped forwards and snagged of a baton from his waist and shoved it into Lorca’s stomach with quick and hard efficiently. Michael twitched; feeling a tingle of a defensive growl in her chest as she did so; protective urge to jump forwards to defend him ached at her limbs but she forced herself still, but the swipe to his face, the blood that spattered from his mouth captivated her attention; glad for her sake she had been holding her breath. She clenched her fist to resist the step forwards, her nails digging into the leather of her leather covered palms.

Philippa handed her baton back to the guard with a chuckle.

“Death would be too much of a mercy…. So your life will be _long_ and every moment in one of our _agonisers_.” She answered, each word a hiss with a hint of pleasure at what his fate was. It twisted a knot in Michael’s stomach, a real and firm reminder that this _wasn’t_ her Philippa.  “A fair price to pay for your _Vaulting_ ambitions.”

“Take him to Brig C. Our finest.” Maddox spoke up, knowing his hint after she had spoken.

The two guards grabbed him by the arms and dragged him away, past her. Michael’s eyes watched but he didn’t look at her again as he disappeared but she could continue to hear the sliding of his shoes as he was dragged on behind and out the door.

Michael turned to face ahead, her eyes fixed on her not-Philippa though her attention was _also_ on her now, softer emotions returning into her steely brown eyes but it didn’t make her gaze any less predatory which felt _ironic_.

Philippa made a simple gesture with her hand, beckoning her forwards. So she obeyed, stepping up towards the stage before stopping as the Emperor met her half-way.

“You could have _died_ hunting that traitor.” Philippa started, her voice lighter in tone as she took her last step in front of her. Michael’s eyes lingered on her face, dipping down momentarily to her throat; to the exposed skin only had a few veins but her voice had her eyes back to her face. “I am so happy you _didn’t_.” Her head tilted with a smile and around them, the rows of guards and crew started to clap for her ‘achievements’. “Have her rest up for a bit,” her eyes lingering on her face, no doubt her paler complexion in mind, “and have her at my residence by dinner.”

“Yes, Emperor.”

Philippa’s hands raised though Michael kept her gaze to her face. “We have _so_ much to discuss, dear daughter.” Her hand coming to her cheek but held off from making any contact, deciding to not to show so much weakness in front of her crew. Tenderness and affection so public was seen as much. An image had to be maintained.

For once. Michael was relieved… Forcing a smile onto her face, though she could feel the throbs of her pulsing heat so close to her cold skin. So subtle yet… she couldn’t help _but_ notice in her hunger.

The Emperor dropped her arm after a moment then waved her hand to dismiss.

Michael turned to the guard who Philippa had addressed who immediately took the lead so she followed in line down through the middle again, her eyes ahead.

The guard continued walking, the halls ways ever identical but there was subtle differences she could identify as they came to a stop to a set of doors; he opened it for her and stepped aside for her. She moved past him and heard the door close. He didn’t move from behind.

She let out her breath sharply, inhaling deeply but was pleasantly rewarded of smelling _only_ Kelpien around the vicinity; the burning in her throat receding now with this change of intensity. Though looking around, she could clearly tell this was her counterpart’s room. A state human scent, one that was very similar to her own but it had clearly been a long while since it had last been here. Her counter part’s scent. Interesting.

The room itself was vacant of personal items out and about, except for a few necessary notebooks, photographs and what looked to be a series of small medals on a stand. The room itself was to the same design, a mixture of golden walls, dark shiny floors and lit by yellow hue lights. There was a huge bed in the centre, grand and decorated as such. There was little to the imagination of what left scratch marks on the headboard and the bed poles. Beside the bed was the bedside, holding a book on top, marked. Though she knew better to look in; fearing what her counterpart had stuffed there for her sexual entertainments.

Not a question she needed answers to.

There was a small section that held a huge bathroom, bigger than the one on the ISS Shenzhou with a cabinet of lavish scrubs and washes. From there a huge walk-in wardrobe, most of the same identical uniform she could tell from the gaps between the door and armour but she suspected a few boxes of personal clothes there somewhere. A door also lead to the toilets

A desk was also to the other side, also very scares. A reminder that they were very similar in how they displayed their personality. Orderly.

Curiosity offered a good distraction so she started to look around, unclipping her chest plate though peeled off her few sets of contact lenses she had under and shoved them into her pocket before depositing the plate onto the desk, opening the draws though it was mainly stationary and note books. Picking one up, she was met with her hand writing but it all looked to be nothing more than strategy plans on rebels. She dropped it back in and headed away towards the bed, pausing at the end of it.

It was all cleaned, the fabric cleaners smelt stale to her nose too though it had no doubt been ready for at least a week. Everything looked to have been otherwise untouched; had the emperor really kept all of her counterpart’s things?

A knock rattled the door, with a single heartbeat before a small female Kelpien came in, her head bowed. But her ganglia immediately flared out and the fear hung around her and her heart beat increased.

“Captain Burnham.” She spoke.

Burnham turned to face her. She had never seen a female Kelpien before, though just a bit shorter than Saru but Kelpiens were known to be taller than humans anyway. Her face held different fold patterns in her skin and her eyes just as blue as Saru’s too. Michael knew better than to ask for her name. Not here, not this far in the snake pit.

“I’m here to preform your ablutions before dinner with the Emperor, at her request…” She continued though Michael nodded and the Kelpien hurried over to the bath to prepare. Michael turned her back though. She wasn’t that surprised that she was to be ‘cleaned up’ before a fancy dinner with the ruler of the entire Terran Empire but there was worry in her mind.

Carefully, she took off her holster and left it on the bed, moving slowly to sit and open her bedside, placing in her spare contact lenses and Captain Philippa’s badge inside for the time being. 

From there she stripped down though half way, the Kelpien started to help but as soon as her fingers brushed her skin, Michael could feel the pause of breath and recoil before her fingers were hesitant to continue.

“You’re very cold, are you well?” Unlike Saru’s counterpart; this one wasn’t afraid to question.

“It’s just a passing illness of no contagion.” She answered, keeping her tone hard to lead to no further discussions on the matter.

The Kelpien nodded and pulled away her under shirt. Keeping her head straight, Michael stepped into the hot water and closed her eyes.

Michael did little else but allowed the Kelpien to do her duties after her wash and dry; but she shooed her away to dress herself this time; the whole ordeal was frustrating enough having endured this with Saru’s double. It showed how much this empire was built and depended on slavery.

She hated it.

A new set of amour had been laid out, clean and identical to her last set though she was dressed in a matter of seconds, clipping her chest plate back on and re-pocketed her things. In the mirror as she put on her lipstick and eye-shadow— there was no foundation she could find to cover the paleness of her skin naturally, Michael could also see the plastic of her contacts look a little blurred, especially at the edges, she probably didn’t have long before the venom in her eyes dissolved them again. She sighed deeply.

This was going to be a tough meal to sit through, what questions would the emperor ask? Her suspicions? If it came to it. Her will of control, she could feel was so much more depleted; the smell of humans only ignited the thirst and someone would notice her lack of breathing sooner or later.

She tossed the lipstick back onto the dresser before darting to stand close to the door, now to wait for someone to collect her.

* * *

 

Michael’s eyes followed the movements of the guards as she was lead from her unfamiliar room of the Charon’s towards Emperor Georgiou’s though she kept her senses out, she did find herself starting at the artery in one of their necks as they walked; the pumping veins made her gums itch; the real instinct to feed feeling ever more present as the hours had passed.

No, she had better control than that. Michael just had to remind herself that Discovery was waiting for her; they’d get her all the blood she needed once she was back. She just had to make it through this meal and go from there…

Coming to a stop, her focus moved from the male’s neck to a grand gold door before it opened. Inside, Philippa was seating herself down as Kelpien slaves seemed to set the table and leave in a flurry, two plates on the table with serving dishes of other extravagant veg and meats and a big glass of wine for each. Food she _couldn’t_ eat. This was going to be a long meal…

Striding forwards, Michael kept her pace adequate as she slipped down with confidence into the only other set seat that was a few feet from the emperor. Good.

“Leave us.” Behind them the guards shut the doors and they hovered outside though Michael let her eyes run across the table, taking note of the smells and scents of the meals though none appealed.

Philippa reaching for her wine though she felt her gaze on her face as they relapsed into silence. Michael picked up her knife and fork with a soft fiddle, her eyes fluttering around still, trying to pin point potential ways to dump the food without her notice; to make it _look_ like she was eating was her only option.

“You were gone a long time. Michael. I expect you have a good explanation to why you made me think you were _dead_.” Philippa stated calmly, placing the glass back down in favour of her cutlery and started to cut into her meal.

Michael resisted cringing as she heard the subtle sound as the knife scraped along the plate as she cut into the pale meat.

“It was not intentional.” She answered back, softly cutting up her own meat into much smaller pieces, “but it sort of happened. It presented a good opportunity to go underground.”

Michael held the steely look she got, watching as Philippa raised her fork to her mouth and scrapped off the meat into her mouth with her teeth, chewing slowly with a calculating look.

With the end of her fork, she pushed her food around her plate softly though reached for her glass and held it to her lips, pretending to allow a sip before placing it down.

Philippa scoffed quickly, shaking her head though the movement sent the wafting scent down towards her. It seeped into her lungs, and she immediately felt the familiar longing reignite in her thirst. Her fingers stiffening on her cutlery and she was sure she had felt the metal dent under her finger tips; nothing noticeable

“You still left me.”

Michael sighed out softly though she played on that to stall her non-eating.

“I did what I had to do.”

“And what _did_ you have to do? Besides making me think you were dead? You are my _daughter_ , do you think it was _easy_? Knowing Lorca got away but _you_ …?” There was a hint of underlying anger in the emperor’s voice; suppressed anger towards her Terran counterpart. It made the Human heart skip a little faster in covered anger; her body heat increasing too in the air..

Michael frowned softly. “But now I’m back and you have Lorca.” She replied coolly. “A win/win situation. I’m _glad_ to be back with you.”

Her eyes lingered on the bowl, sitting back after a moment, her hand coming to her throat as the ache lingered much more, holding her breath once again but she felt frustrated that she had to breathe to talk…. No mercy of a silent dinner.

Philippa let out a soft indigent sound. “And here I thought I taught you better…” She stabbed her plate, obviously harder than intended as the sound the scraping metal gritted through her ears, like nails down a chalk board.

Michael’s said nothing, though her head turned towards the door as she heard footsteps but the sounds carried on past the door and down… no hope of a distraction. Her fingers traced over her windpipe; the dryness felt so much more prominent the longer she sat beside the Emperor. She couldn’t help but find herself more and more _attuned_ to her… everything about her was getting harder to focus on everything but the beat of her heart or the feel of her pulse.

_So close…_

“A lot has happened.” Michael spoke though her tone remained indifferent before she looked back to Philippa though she barely took note of her narrowed eyed expression.

In fact, Michael found herself _staring_ at the emperor, her mind _away_ from the fact she looked like _her_ Philippa or the odd look she received in her blatant stare but the flush under the woman’s skin seemed to be beckoning her… _temping_ her.

The foundation Philippa wore masked the veins and capillaries within her face, her hair and high collar made it harder to see through the thin membrane of skin that would do so _little_ to protect her pumping veins in her neck… she could feel the heat of life just…radiating over her like a heater and the scent… the perfumes she wore masked a lot but the sweet undertones begged further temptation…the wet _thumps_ of her heart hidden behind the metallic amour.; it’s rhythm _captivating_ … drawing her in.

Michael could easily imagine just pulling her closer. _It wouldn’t be hard and to **feel** her warmth against her lips and the soft throbbing skin under her lips… she could only imagine how sweet her blood really was when her fangs pierced into the paper thin skin… to quench the burning ache that longed to be satisfied._

“Michael!”

She didn’t flinched but it made her blink out her momentary fantasy. The vampire looked away and swallowed thickly but said nothing; her fangs under her lips had sharpened out more. The urges arising…

Philippa placed her fork down though her grip stayed tightly on her knife. “You haven’t touched your meal.” She stated, nodding to her plate

Michael clenched her jaw, the scent from Philippa seemed to saturate around her as the human shifted forwards towards her, her gums ached with the urge to bite ticked them. Her hands clenches on her thighs.

“I’m not hungry.”

A total lie…. She was _starving_. But not for this human food. Philippa had no idea… no idea how _dangerous_ she was right now. Each breath she had to take in felt like a flame igniting a burn that felt like it was getting hotter… and _hotter_.

Philippa’s eyes narrowed further as if assessing her stiff posture and she knew she _looked_ hungry; her pale skin and shadows under her eyes would attest that something was _off_.

Her contact lenses would soon dissolve… her nature would all be exposed but she _had_ to hold out. For her Captain…. For her crew.

“Maybe I should call our chief medical examiner… I suppose hunting Lorca took its toll after all?” There was a question in her tone.

“Not necessary.” Michael gritted out.

She forced herself to stare ahead to the wall, easily noting the deviating’s in the metallic carving patterns… too faint to see with human eyes that made seeing the flaws impossible but it exposed an rather interest pattern design to her superior vision that did little to really draw her attention from the emperor; her stare radiating as hot as her body-heat.

She forced herself to stay still, as unnatural as she knew it looked…

“Are you’re in pain?” The Emperor’s head tilted though she seemed to rise from her chair, pondering on her approach but Michael hoped she’d stay her distance. “Were you _injured_?”

Another image flashed in her mind…. _The emperor, pinned back in her chair, her own cold body straddling her down, keeping her locked in place; hearing Philippa’s quiet sounds… her pained cries… although to **feel** her **struggling** under her that lit the real primal instinct within her… that **this** was hers…_

Venom pooled into her mouth at the imagery; she could feel her will-power slipping…

The Emperor’s fingers still held onto the knife though Michael slowly pushed her full plate away, as well as the cutlery; the knife _furthers_ — she knew the emperor watched that _specifically_.

She had to go… before her blood-thirsty fantasy became reality.

“Michael, are you even listening?”

“No.” Her answer was blunt and surprising enough for the emperor to raise her eyebrow. “I…” Michael started though stopped. What could she say? “I don’t feel good. I need to lie down.” Yet she couldn’t bring herself to move… or trust herself not to go for the Emperor if she did.

Philippa pushed her own bowl away after a moment, her eyes piercing into her face.

“You’re lying.” She spoke, her tone sharp with her quip. “There’s something you’re not telling me.”

“You don’t want to know.” Michael closed her eyes, to shut out the visual temptation but that only lit her imagination to the _delicious_ heartbeat resonating from under the Emperors armour… amour that could bend and break like cheese…. Her jaw flexed, holding her breath against the burning but she felt the Emperor finally move, stepping around the edge of the table, her tempting body-heat getting closer and her thumping heart getting louder and _louder_. Her nails dug into her palms.

“Oh, _don’t_ I?”

Michael wasn't a fool to think Philippa had left her knife; she knew the emperor suspected _something_ was off about her like everyone else; what she couldn’t imagine this… by _assuming_ , the emperor logically thought her unable to relax in fear of her authority… or that she could have turned against her and was playing nice… she had absolutely no _idea_ ….

“ _Look_ at me.” The tone was hard, purposeful to get her attention and held a threat. A threat that didn’t sit well with her instincts…

Michael’s eyes opened before she forced herself to turn her gaze, staring up at Philippa as she seemed to stop a foot away, standing over her with a silted gaze of suspicion but all Michael could see was the flush of blood and the increase of her heartbeat that timed well to confrontation responses; her scent strengthen with the flush of blood coursing through her veins.

“ _Back off_.” Michael growled in warning, a proper _growl_ that certainly didn’t fit to her face and she could feel the spike of self-preservation _fear_ run through Philippa.

But then The Emperor made a _mistake_ and all of her own impulses melting away as the emperor raised her knife towards her…a threat display that triggered the crumble of resolve. Her vision clearing up fully as her contacts dissolved away to expose thirsty-black irises.

Then the vampire moved, driven by her thirst as the last of her willpower melted away alongside rational thought with another inhuman growl and lunched forwards out of her seat, the blade the emperor had pointed at her was _gone_ ; tossed carelessly within a heartbeat.

Grabbing the weak human by the armoured collar and tossed her back into her chair with enough force to send both the woman and chair onto its back. Philippa let out a sharp and winded grunt as soon as she hit the floor.

The soft crack of her head against the metal echoing but the vampire didn’t hesitate to dart over, her fangs fully extended as she kicked the chair away and picked up the Emperor by the shoulders and dragged her away from the annoying _stench_ of human food that had knocked all over the place and shoved her down roughly to the floor.

“… _Michael?!”_

Bemusement was in the human’s voice but her words fell on deaf ears. Her heartbeat had only _increased_ , adrenaline released that increased the delicious edge to her blood that sung out like music. The vampire immediately pushed her down as the woman scrambled to get up and away; kicking away the other weapon in the holster before yanked the crawling human ankle back and pushed her onto her back and straddled her waist down to the floor and effectively pinning her down.

It only took a second to evaluate what needed to be done. Her fingers dug into the metal her nails tearing into it like clay and parted the front open as if she was tearing open a button shirt like it was made of tissue paper and revealing the soft, black leather under layers but her throat was _exposed_ …

Her stone hands pinned back her shoulder, ripping half the amour off the humans frame, her other coming to grasp at the emperor’s chin, forcing her head to the side roughly… exposing her bare throat directly to her; pulsing rapidly under her skin  and feeling the emperor’s ragged breathing; she could smell the _fear_ now along with the surprise. Her head lowered… the _heat_ so close. Her own skin cold, she felt the human shiver under her as their cheeks brushed.  Her primal mind taking in to relish the moment…

“Guards!”

She felt the vein effort as the human attempted to push at her… her fingers clawing into her solid flesh and her legs trying to shift her weight off balance but it did little as her lips brushed the tender skin of her throat where her heat and scent radiated from most and getting a momentary taste of her flesh before she bit down into her delicate skin.

Almost immediately, hot and thick, sweet and heavenly blood pooled into her mouth, hearing Philippa’s cry of pain then she started to lap at her throat; each mouthful seemed to smother and sooth the burning ache…yet never enough to extinguish.

The vampire’s arms curled around her, hugging her closer; her fingers gripping onto the back of her head to keep her still. Her own name echoed on the emperor’s lips, much softer now but Michael moaned out in pure _relief_ … she couldn’t stop… she had to keep drinking… to get rid of the pain, the hunger that sat deep in her. She could still feel the emperor struggle though weaker now, groaning out in pain... the human’s grip on her slacking a fraction…

“ _Emperor_!”

It the surprise of the sound that the vampire reacted to, her arms tightening around her prey protectively— this was _hers—_ immediately turning to see two guards entering in alarm to the commotion. A growl rumbled in her chest, echoing in the air as she bared her sharp teeth but both pulled out their weapons.

But their hearts were fast, the beats heavier; bigger… their pulses racing… _more_ blood. Though their scents weren’t nearly so sweet; she wasn’t going to complain.

“What the…” a look of astonishment crossed over their faces as they saw the scene in front of them.  An unexpected sight a part of her primal mind could picture; their emperor lying limping and pale, blood seeping out of a deep neck wound as her daughter pinned her down in her arms, her eyes a dark red now; blood covering her face with extended fangs that was also strained with blood from their emperor.

Philippa groaned out dazed in blood loss as she stared up at her but Michael’s attention was to the closest and bigger human; they wouldn’t shoot with the human in her arms….

“Drop her.” He ordered, though he had the authority in his voice, she could feel his fear…smell it. His heart filling her with a fresh wave of temptation to her unsated first; her palette fresh with Philippa’s blood; she needed _more_.

A growl crossed her lips again before she darted; using her speed in a heartbeat, his gun clattering to the floor as she pushed him back, knocking the air out of his lungs, biting straight down into his jugular; her teeth like knife in butter as they sung into his windpipe; blood filling her mouth one again but bubbles of air rose as he tried to scream but it came out gurgled.

She pushed him down, forcing him to the ground— not quite hearing the cracks as his bones gave under her grip—as she greedily drank; much faster than she had before; renewing her strength in her own veins down to each finger and toe; offering her the sense of reality; then the flow seemed to stop… an annoyed hiss escaped her lips but she turned to face the other; only to see him holding onto the emperor’s limp form before they were gone in orange light.

“ _No_!” Her prey was gone… but her head turned as more guards came in but she allowed her brain to switch off as she leapt into an angry, blood lusted frenzy…

* * *

Reality seemed to surface, Michael could feel herself return to find herself feeding deeply from a woman’s throat though she forced herself away but the woman was far too dead at this point and there hadn’t been much left in her. Michael dropped her with a clatter as amour met metal flooring.

Though she felt incredibly sloshy and bloated and she certainly knew she had overfed before she even _looked_ around. She had ended up in the throne room, a dozen or so bodies lay around her; she could hear no heart beats to know they were all dead and the colour in some showed her enough she hadn’t fed from all, but certainly plenty; there was probably more trailing to here to start with…

“Shit.”

Michael rose to her feet, her fangs retracting back into her gums to standard canines. She had lost control… _utter control_ … how many had she killed? But she had been so… _hungry_ … starved for a week and now _this_ … not good. But it _felt_ so good… the relief….

Michael looked down at herself but her gold armour was stained to a rose-gold with blood, her hands too and she could feel the sticky mess around her mouth and down her chin and neck… She swallowed thickly. She had to talk to Lorca… this was not good…

Past the broken doors, she could hear the movements, the heartbeats of the guard rushing about, their shouts and orders; looking for _her_. The news of the Emperor being attacked had spread…

She couldn’t take the serene way it seemed, even at her speeds. Her eyes flickered around the throne room, though a large vent did take her interest before she decided to follow through. The metal came off like a band aid and tossed it to the side and she didn’t hesitate to crawl through, just about hearing more guards enter the room behind her but her speed made it easy to get half way into the system but she was above and between decks now, the sounds calling through.. Conversations, screams… the _buzzing_ sounds of electricity.

Michael started off, towards the sounds of the screams and the electricity; the agonizers no doubt. Hearing them in the ISS Shenzhou made its sounds _very_ familiar.

Then one by one, the agonizer’s sounds seemed to get louder, her metaphorical heart leapt in her chest at the thought. Lorca?

A minute later, Michael found herself looking though the wall vent into the sweltering room of agonizers, counting 12 at the least at one level, but her eyes were darting around to find her captain.

Some of the rebel’s faces held any familiarity; Landry for one which was an odd sight to see in her. But Lorca wasn’t among them and all those booths were lit up. She moved on, she had to find Lorca.

* * *

His scent was easier to pick up on as she carried on, his cries and screams echoing in almost a private sub section that got louder until the tunnel came to a stop and a drop. She jumped down and landed on the balls of her feet and listened out as Lorca’s cries quieted down a fraction. Captain Maddox talking about his sister….

She felt a welt of panic, moving quickly until she found the hatchway to the brig’s vents and there, through a three millimetre gap, she saw the large room, with one single Agoniser booth and it’s control panel with Captain Maddox at the station.

“Don’t you die on me you depraved bastard!”

Inside the booth, Lorca had collapsed and for a moment, Michael almost pushed the grate out to get to him as Maddox opened the booth and he flopped out but the thudding heart _raced_ in Lorca’s chest was what stopped her; that Maddox was prepared to _resuscitate_ him…to get his heart going… but it didn’t need to be done…

The small defibrillator was charged and it ran loudly in his approach, panic lacing Maddox’s blood. “I need you to live, or I’m good as dead!”

The suddenly Lorca moved; jumping up. “You’re right!” He drive at the captain and knocked him back. But the surprise give Lorca the upper hand in the brief fight until he tangled the other with the wires and slammed it into Maddox’s head; directing the pull charges to both sides of his brain….

Her breath held and her eyes widened; this was not to plan…

Maddox grunted, seizing on the floor but Lorca stood over him, a new sense of smugness in his posture. “Ava. Her name was Ava.” He spoke, loudly. “And I liked her… but you know how it is.” Lorca lent forwards and grabbed the man’s gun, “Someone better came along.” And with that, the phaser set to kill, Lorca fired it point blank to Maddox’s head.

Michael gasped softly, moving back away from the gap and back up the vent… but her mind span as she went; this didn’t make much sense…. Why would he do this? Why now? How did he know another captain’s sister, let alone—

Michael stopped in mid crawl, the realisation suddenly felt like her gut had been doused in liquid nitrogen…

This Lorca wasn’t from _her_ universe… he was from _here_ …

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dur due durr......  
> ehehe
> 
> I almost feel evil. :) It's one way to throw canon out the fucking window lol. 
> 
> but you know. wouldn't be the mirror universe with vampires thrown in without a little bit of death, murder and a surprise now lol 
> 
> Plus, i love the possibilities this now presents!.


	22. New preperations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, couldn't help myself from doing Georgiou's perspective on the attack; It took a few rewrites to figure what'll work and everything.  
> But knowing her, she's far too stuborn lol.

The Emperor had watched her daughter very close the moment she stepped into her quarters. Philippa knew herself well to know something was off about her as soon as she had seen her in person. A gut feeling that had served her well as Emperor. She was trained and had to be in her position; she had almost lost count on those who had tried to kill her over the years. Aliens and humans like, to end the empire or to take over.

Hearing of her daughter’s death had hurt. She had loved her. One of the few she had been able to dote enough of her affections without weakening herself in the eyes of the empire. Michael had never been a vulnerability, or at least, not to a serious degree. But she saw an orphan child that could be crafted into a position of power, under her control for succession; _her_ legacy. _Only_ hers. She raised that child and trained her in the Terran way. But… one mistake.

 _Lorca_.

A trust in a man that she had misplaced and he used her daughter; then she was gone. Dead. Now she was back, under a year later. Philippa hadn’t quite wanted to believe the news from Captain Maddox but the captain knew better to lie. She had to have her back; to see for her own eyes. Not just if she was alive, but her loyalties. _If_ she was worthy of coming back… She’d not risk her empire if this was one of Lorca’s schemes. Better a quick death if that was the case. A mercy she could grant her child. Only her.

But looking at her now.

Something was different. Philippa couldn’t place it other than the pale sheen to her skin, dark shadows under her eyes or a lack of any real expression in her face or eyes. She looked…ill. But her behaviour didn’t show it. Michael looked like…she was hollowed out.

Philippa could grant some lenience in her observations. Who knew _what_ had happened to her in her time away but she didn’t feel that trust in her now as Michael sat down confidently but looking otherwise distracted, her eyes washing over the plates, to her then away.

 _Unfocused_.

Certainly not what she expected from her daughter.

“Leave us.” The emperor spoke, met with immediate obedience though she watched Michael as she sat there and vaguely picked up her cutlery, still taking everything in as if this was the first time that had had a meal together.

Her fingers reached forwards for her glass, allowing the wash of wine down her throat. Michael wasn’t going to speak. That was obvious.

“You were gone a long time. Michael. I expect you have a good explanation to why you made me think you were  _dead_.” Philippa kept her voice calm with a light and reasonable question of her interrogation. The best sort of situation, over a meal. She’d give Michael the rope; see if she’d hang herself with it. It worked well in finding moles and exposing them. Let them get comfortable. Philippa picked up her knife and fork and delicate began to cut into her Kelpien meat, awaiting the answer.

Michael paused for a moment. “It was not intentional.” Her daughter responded, gently cutting the food on her plate further up, “but it sort of happened. It presented a good opportunity to go underground.”

Philippa couldn’t help but give her a look, though Michael’s gaze was solid as she held it. The emperor though allowed it to pass, washing away her expression into something softer at the least than a glare as she ate.

Michael’s expression once again blank to the point where Philippa couldn’t read a single emotion running through her. Too calm. It was… almost unnerving. But, Michael was a _very_ good liar. She must have improved. It didn’t sit well with her.

Philippa scoffed slightly.  “You still left me.”

Michael sighed out, soft but noticeable; _finally_ giving her an outward reaction. “I did what I had to do.”

“And what _did_ you have to do? Besides making me think you were dead? You are my _daughter_ , do you think it was _easy_? Knowing Lorca got away but _you_ …?”  She forced herself to rein back the wash of anger at _her_ …at _Lorca_. She intended to make him suffer for what he did, for making her think he had killed her, but justice would just come easily to her for it too. But it would at least be on her terms this time. Not his.   

“But I’m back now and you have Lorca. A win/win situation and I’m _glad_ to be back with you.” Michael’s tone didn’t change, even with the emphasis but again that followed out too smooth for her taste,

Philippa let out a soft indigent sound. “And here I thought I taught you better…” She was just saying that. Playing it soft to wiggle back into her heart… good, but not good enough.

In the corner of her eye as she ate, The emperor still watched though it appeared her daughter’s attention had once again drifted, not touching her still full plate and her hand was touching her throat.

“A lot of happened.”

Though Michael didn’t finish her statement or elaborate further, Philippa eyed her warily though she felt a mild welt of concern as her daughter’s eyes seemed to glaze over as she stared ahead to her. She had changed, but… perhaps there was something wrong with her. Mentally, or physically… either way, this whole demeanour was too different.

“Michael!”

Focus immediately return to her gaze, and she looked away sharply but that said enough to her. Michael _knew_ what was wrong with her, choosing not to say anything. Philippa pursed her lips, setting down her cutlery but held her knife. “You haven’t touch your food.”

Michael seemed to stiffen up further, if possible though kept her gaze away. “I’m not hungry.”

Philippa frowned deeply, eyes narrowing. Her concern immediately diminishing, replaced this time with a quiet suspicion.  “Maybe I should call our chief medical examiner… I suppose hunting Lorca took its toll after all?”

“Not necessary.” Michael’s tone was tense, grappling even.

“Are you in pain?” She rose to her feet but nothing was given away in the woman’s face. “Were you _injured_?”

Steadily though, her daughter pushed the plate away. Her eyes flickered to the knife; untouched but Michael’s eyes glazed again.

“Michael?” Her eyes narrowed shrewdly. “Are you alright?” There was no answer. It was on the tip of her tongue to call for the guards to get  a medic to check her over… but she withheld. Something was too off for that.  “Michael, are you even listening?”

“No.” answering before her gaze returned though there was a hidden depth to those blank eyes now. Tense and coiled, awaiting, even.

The Emperor raised her eyebrow.

“I…” Michael started though stopped, “I don’t feel good. I need to lie down.” But she didn’t get up.

Philippa pushed her own bowl away after a moment, her appetite fading now, her eyes piercing into Michael’s face.  “You’re lying.” She spoke, her tone sharp with her quip. “There’s something you’re not telling me.”

“You don’t want to know.”

The Emperor’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Oh, _don’t_ I?”  The challenge was almost set in that alone. The attitude from her was wrong. Philippa moved; stepping around the table towards her daughter, her hand fiddling with her knife between her finger tips.

For a second, there was no reaction as she stood over her; no fear nor wariness that should have made her feel discomforted; Michael didn’t even look up. Her eyes narrowed dangerously at her, fury starting to arise. She didn’t _deserve_ to be here like this…

_“Back off.”_

Then the tensions suddenly shift in those two words. But Michael’s voice seemed to tune out into a growl that rattled and resonated down her spine, igniting an immediate sensation in her gut…of _fear_.

By her own instinct, her knife raised— then it was gone in a heartbeat; hearing a clatter as it struck metal away then she felt a sudden, hard shove; sending her back but her mind barely had a second to catch up before she felt the impact.

A sharp sound was forced passed her lips, bewildered for a second but the reality caught up; training kicking in in an instant; forcing herself up than allow herself to targeted quickly in a rapid attack but even then a sudden blow shoved her down into the floor. Her head spun and pain radiated down the back but her hand searched for her dagger…

Despite the pain that ran through her head, there was a second for her brain to catch up that she was being dragged away, a squeak of her heels against the floor, a dull ache running down her lower back; her amour digging in and a painful grip on her shoulder.

“…Michael?”

She couldn’t help the bemusement in her voice; startled more than anything at that had happened in the last 5 seconds though she immediately didn’t hesitate to try and slip free, twisted out her daughters grip and dived to get up; adrenaline coursing through her veins until a heavy blow— too heavy thundered her down.

Philippa immediately caught herself, her hand coming to her holster, finger tips brushing nothing before hard grip suddenly pulled her back, sending her sprawling onto her front. Her world spinning then a new weight was quick to pin her down, flat onto her back.

Her heart raced in her chest; her eyes widened as she looked up to Michael; her weight pressing her waist her down into the floor..

Except, it _wasn’t_ Michael

Her face was still the same but her brown eyes were gone, replaced with a sheer black that looked at her with hostility and longing… _hunger_ even that she couldn’t fathom; she could see her reflection back in them but for the second that hung in the air; she knew she was looking into the eyes of a _predator_. Her teeth… her teeth were bared; exposing sharpened tips that hadn’t been there before.

A sharp gasp left her lips, her hands coming to clamp around her wrist but it did little to stop her; Michael’s fingers dug roughly into the metal of her amour, twisting under to shake her off but she couldn’t; she could only watch as the metal tore away; fear striking deep as she realised _what_ she was going for.

“No!” Her strength yielded as if it wasn’t there; the icy grip suddenly a hold of her jaw, forcing her neck to twist; her head being pressed back at an awkward angle with her shoulders held down and she could feel the cold air at her throat. Exposed. Pain and pressure built up as the creature’s cold hand held her there, unrelenting as she pushed back. Under her ribs, Philippa could feel how rapid her heart was going, pounding a mild a minute, the adrenaline, she could feel it made her hands shake but she couldn’t do anything. Her eyes widened as the woman lent down. The Emperor knew what was coming…

“Guards!”

She felt a new surge of energy; pushing up against her but her heart increased as she felt cool air brush down her skin; then the pure ice-cold of Michael’s cheek; the tip of her nose as it glazed under her jaw.

The Emperor didn’t allow herself to stop, biting her nails down to find some give in what flesh she could reach, but all her fingers were met was hard mass like stone, scrapping down it but nothing seemed to sway the monster on her to stop or push back….

Then she felt her bite down.

The skin gave effortlessly, searing with a white hot agony flaring immediately down her neck; unable to stop the cry of pain as it escaped her unsure to even how loud it was but the pain was like acid, burning her flesh like a torch, like an agonizer. Even as the initial pain died, it lingered as one part of her mind she could vaguely feel as the creature lapped at her throat; mouthfuls at a time…the burning pain smothering the aches that came with each drag of blood

“Mich…Michael..” Her voice hoarse, gasping quietly as the cold woman shifted, her arms snaking around her, pulling her more against her cold body; as if she was being embraced by a statue. A cold grip knotting into her hair, keeping her head in place at her shoulder; Michael’s cold ear pressing up at her hot flesh under her own. Her hand pushed up against her underbelly… Her eyes fluttered closed. “Michael…” A part of her mind taking in the sound Michael made as she greedily drank; the moan that made her feel surprised that there would be any pleasure derived from this… certainly nothing sexual, even with her position.

“Mmmi…Michael.”  Philippa groaned out, the tiredness that was starting to grow around her… her head was spinning, energy was being sapped out. “Stop….. _stop_..” she could feel her body already succumbing to the more she fed… her heart racing faster in her chest; beating rapidly to make up for the loss but she could feel Michael wasn’t going to stop..

Her daughter was going to kill her…

 

The emperor’s mind was teetering on the edges of consciousness when suddenly, a voice calling out and a growl stopped her from blacking out but she couldn’t move, her body betraying her by laying limp now; her head resting back into her daughter’s arms, barely feeling the warmth of escaped blood as it seeped into her clothes… her mind feeling groggy though she groaned out as the grip constricted around her… tightening around her ribs and the remainders of her amour; though she could barely feel the edges of twisted metal as it dug in with the pressure.

Though the Emperor gaze up, her daughter’s face swimming into view but she barely saw anything passed the sharp teeth and blood that coated her mouth and chin…dripping down… Her eyes fluttered, another groan leaving her lips again then suddenly, Michael lurched away but everything turned black as her head cracked down again onto the floor.

* * *

It was the burning pain that seemed to bring her back around…different now than before. It burned more intensely, seeping and spreading further… her body felt otherwise numb, like she was floating under a deep sea but she could taste the familiar sensation in her mouth of a sedative… she couldn’t feel other pain than the burning; but she couldn’t move.

_“She’s awake, Doctor.”_

_“Already?”_

_“Yes, sir.”_

The Emperor almost groaned out but she couldn’t quite find her lungs… it infuriated her. She was weak. Vulnerable. An Easy target. She could make out that it was Dr Culber and Dr Pollard with her. Her personal physicians but uneasy nonetheless to feel like this, even in their presence in her private medical room.

A sharp sensation pieced her side and immediately, she felt her body return to her control. Sucking in a deep breath, her hand shot to her neck; her fingers touching over the neck brace briefly then to her throat; feeling the dressing that was taped there but she could feel the burning sensation continued… low enough that she could hold in any signs on the pain, eyes fluttering open to see the two doctors hovered.

“Emperor.” Dr Culber greeted. “I apologise for the delay in waking you. You lost an incredible amount of blood and sustained a fractured skull as well as torn tendons in your sternocleidomastoid  We’ve been trying to flush your blood stream of the venom that was injected but it keeps eating through it all.” Straight to business and to the point. One of the few things she liked about him that made her trust his medical care over Pollards.

“We were informed on what happened by the guard that brought you in. A search is underway for Burnham.” Pollard spoke, moving away from her bed side and filled a glass of water up.

“Ho..” Her voice cracked but she pushed past it, “How long was I out?” She took the water for a brief swallow, reliving the dry ache. 

“Five hours.”

Philippa’s eyes narrowed, turning to Culber. “ _Five_ hours?”

“It was necessary. Your council, or what’s left are running the search and corning off decks. Since your attack, Lorca also escaped and—”

A welt of fury rose within her as Pollard continued her run down… Lorca. Of course. Her dead daughter must have freed him after attacking her. A plan to seize control. As her daughter; she had the legitimate position as her heir to take over her position. Become the _new_ Emperor.

Whatever she was now, it was clearly superior. Philippa could almost feel her weight on her; the stone grip around her body that made her feel weak and soft; strength that seemed impossible… She never felt weaker than then; helpless in her arms as she _fed_ from her…. It disgusted her.

Right now, Micheal was too dangerous right now to attack head-on. Once Lorca was dead, they’d have to make their retreat to escape pods and blow the Charon to hell to make sure she didn’t survive. _Whatever_ she was, she was far too gone. Her daughter had died, _this_ was just a monster with her face. One that was loyal to Lorca, not her.  Lorca had clearly trained it after what was done to her. Promised Michael blood.

 _Her_ blood.

She needed to take control; not let this attack weaken her image. The emperor turned her focus back to Culber who flipped a PADD over to show her the scans of her neck; skin level to muscle of her neck in different shades but she could see the infection had been tinted a darker shade and she could feel it’s burning under the skin; it progression matching to what she was seeing. Philippa glowered, suppressing the wince.

“What was injected into your flesh seems to have spread deep into your tissues and traveling along your blood vessels. Cutting it out would have been our viable option but it’s spread too deep into your tissues and major arteries. ”

“Fix...it.” She grunted, the pain stabbing down towards her collar bone and up towards her head; she could _feel_ it spreading.

“I can’t, if it had been snake venom then we have a general antidote but this isn’t like something I’ve seen before. It’s _rapidly_ spreading.”

Her eyes narrowed into slits but he didn’t backtrack; a statement in itself what this wasn’t an option; that he couldn’t lie to her either. She was infected. End of.

“What _can_ you do?”

Culber moved to his station and pulled out a new hypospray carriage. “I can numb your pain receptors. This is a semi-experimental concoction, it’s the strongest Pain medication I have and what I have put into your system is already being eaten out by the venom.”

“Side effects?”

“Your ability to feel any sort of pain will be diminished but not completely nulled. You may be prone to accidental self-injury though you may feel the sensations of said injuries. Your sensory of temperature may also be reduced.”

Philippa sucked on her teeth but it’d have to do. She doubted she could do much worse than this pain she was experiencing. It was a sacrifice she had to play; she just needed to be cautious. Dr Culber was efficient and experienced enough with it to even offer it to her. He knew the risks if it didn’t work.

 “Do it.”

“Yes, Emperor, but this isn’t permanent. The Venom too may adapt and eat through.”

“I don’t care. Do it.” She could deal with the problem later. Maybe there could be a cure. But she wasn’t a fool to _not_ know what was happening.

She had heard plenty of stories, all cultures of blood-thirsty monsters that craved human blood and flesh… yet to have that exist _now_ …on her ship, and her own _daughter_ was one of them and now _she_ had been infected. Tainted and no doubt the turning process. No. She was born human and she’d die human. But she had greater things to do today than turn or die.

“Get me new armour and clothes.” Philippa snapped to Pollard, who obediently nodded and  disappeared but she forced herself to sit up, taking off the brace though her head spun as the pain flared.

“Here, My Emperor.” Her head turned to see Culber holding out the hypospray again but she allowed him to press it into her neck, just under her ear lobe though it felt much colder than expected but it easily seeped around the burning sensations under her skin, like a barrier, pain almost numbing away though it still pickled at the edges of the burning. Good enough.  “Refills. You’ll need to administer it for every hour to keep your pain nulled. This is my current stock but I’ll get more to _immediate_ development”

In his hand were refills though she took them without a work of thanks and pushed herself up. Nausea flooding her system but she held it back. She had spent enough time in bed. She had Lorca to take down and her job to do.

“I assume you’ve got some of this…venom?” If not, containing Michael for her venom would be hard; to find a cure for it was her only option.

“Not a lot, I’m afraid the tainted flesh made it impossible to extract but I got remnants from the scars of the bite.”

Her hand came to her neck, disappearing under the dressing, the skin _felt_ like it was blistering but to touch… it was cooler in comparison. But a lot less painful now the nerves were dulled, But the bite; she could feel and the ridges of the scars… _sealed_. Interesting.

“Get a cure.” She ordered swiftly, dropping her hand though it pleased her to see a new set of identical golden amour arrive as well as her black leathers, pulling them on quickly as well as the vest,— she could see the blood still coating her skin but she’d clean up later. Philippa slid the hypospray into her cleavage and the refills into a pocket. Culber knew not to try and get her to stay; there was little more he could do.

A new guard appeared; his face solemn as always though she took his weapon as she walked, leaving the doctors to their study. “Status?”

“No sign of Captain Burnham, we’re unable to track her life signs.”

Of course. That didn’t surprise her. Michael was too dead to be picked up on sensors… her skin too cold. It almost made her shiver; at the memory of the attack.  

 “We have however…found the bodies. Not all drained but all quick and effective kills. I’ve advised all battalions to kill on sight.”

“Good.” But futile with her speed. It made her angry though. To be brought down by _her_ , after everything she had given to her, _this_ was her reward? To be assaulted, her men slaughtered and all for _blood_?

Philippa knew something had been off about Michael as soon as she had seen her; she hadn’t looked well; her skin too pale and shadows under her eyes that looked like she hadn’t slept for days. Too quiet…

The way Michael had sat; stiff as a board; not touching her food— because now she realised it was because she couldn’t eat it— and not looking at her. At least not trying but when she did…the expression in her eyes, the hunger that lay beneath them… she knew something was wrong much more but she never assumed to be at the end of her teeth in a second.

 _Blood lust_. An Insatiable desire. Killing her daughter would have to be out of mercy; she couldn’t afford to put her through the agonisers and prolong it on the chance of escape. She did love her daughter, a quick death was the only option she could give for her dead daughter; to end the torment and cravings.

“We weren’t able to remove the bodies but…Lorca’s escaped and is rounding up his tropes and has begun to attack. We’ve lost 17 decks due to a biochemical weapon and we’re about to have company, _here_. Lorca anticipated your survival. He also has the throne room and controls.”

Philippa glowered. She had missed out on this? She should be in the Throne room with his head off his shoulders. Not here, not infected and certainly not to be ambushed.  “Head them off and execute them all.” She’d give then the fight for their lives. After all it was the Terran way. She wasn’t the Emperor nor stayed Emperor if she was easy to kill. Even with the venom in her veins, she’d fight.

* * *

 

Michael found herself back in the tunnels. She had spent enough time in them now, avoiding detection from both Lorca and the guards; in their search for Lorca, plans, Lorca’s too but she hadn’t dared ventured out to help either side. She was not Lorca’s lap dog… not any more. She didn’t owe him anymore, but she couldn’t kill everyone on this ship either. Those she had already, that had to be enough. That wasn’t her fault, not really.

But the fact was, Discovery was unaware. Their crew was waiting for them. For her… they needed the truth. She had to give it to them; before she was forced into anything. That, was her side.

Her fingers tapped along the screen, working her way to tap into the communications lines. It didn’t take long through but she could feel herself preparing for the reaction she’d get; she still looked like a literal bloody mess, it wouldn’t escape any of the bridge crew to what she had done.

“Burnham to Discovery.” Her fingers tapping to try and boost the signal. “Discovery, do you read?”

For an agonising moment, there was nothing; then the screen lit up; an image flickering up into the panel.

“Discovery here. We’re reading you.”

Relief pouring through her gut as she saw not just Saru, but Paul too standing beside him on the bridge

Paul’s face showed a lot of cracks, hundreds of them but fainter so he had been up and about for a bit; his blond hair had a slight reddish tinge to it but his eyes were a clear red and his skin an opaque pale white.  He looked good for someone that had been in a few thousand pieces.

“Discovery here.” Then, the expressions crossed over their faces; taking in her appearance. Saru’s face softened though he frowned ever so slightly. Paul’s face remained as usual though he seemed to be…unaffected by her appearance; what her actions were. Michael looked away shamefully.

“It seems your situation has become dire.” Saru’s voice softer. “Are you okay?”

Michael nodded. “I’m fine…”

“What happened? Is the captain with you?”

Her gaze returned though she couldn’t help the felt of anger, her eyes darkening in an instant and not missed by anyone. “Captain Lorca is Terran.” Her voice turning bitter. “He… He starved me purposely so I could snap.”

Immediately, she could see them look at each other, startled by the news. 

“That’s not possible. Surely we would have sensed it… at least you or I would have.” Saru reasoned but she shook her head. They could discuss it more later given it would easily explain how they got here. Lorca was a good actor. Now, they needed a plan. She couldn’t stay in the vents or Jefferies tubes.

“We had no idea, Sir. But he’s starting a coup against the Emperor….. Logic tells me that _Lorca_ wants to use me… or at least my nature to take control.” That itself did show a darker image on what could happen here. Vampires didn’t exist here and they shouldn’t. Even if Philippa was to survive and turn; it shouldn’t be _here_.

“We cannot allow that.”

“I agree. But I can find a way to blow up the ship; take us all out and the problem will go away.”

“That’d certainly kill you.”

“It’s better than the alternative, Sir.” Michael argued. “When I snapped, I attacked and _bit_ the emperor. She's turning now.  I can’t risk my nature being used like this, not for her, not for him and I can’t risk Discovery either. You _need_ to leave.”

“We’re not leaving you behind, Burnham.” Saru stood up, shaking his head. “I won’t consider it but, we’re on our way to you. Let us work a way to take out the ship _and_ get you back.”

It was clear Saru wasn’t going to move from his stance so Michael nodded. “What do you need me to do?”

“We’ve already been looking into it,” Paul spoke up, moving into frame more. “After my head shattered, my mind was drawn into the network. There’s a corruption happening that needs to be resolved. The Orb that powers the ship is our target.”

“I’ve also ran some simulations.” Tilly called though. Michael’s eyes flickered off screen to her general direction. “But there’s a containment field surrounding the orb.”

Michael nodded. “Then I need to turn it off?”

“Yes, but it’ll take us time to get to you. You also need to stall the coup and ensure that Lorca has no idea.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll signal you when I’m ready, Burnham out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehe okay, the next chapter will a done a lot later; I have other writing i've been neglecting to get another chapter out here so I'll need to catch up on those first before i get to another chapter here. 
> 
> as usual, drop from love and some comments. 
> 
> although, would anyone be against writing up some... vampire smut? Not necessarily from THIS universe I've created but there's always some subtext to relationships that I could briefly look into, even if it's not my canon. 
> 
> If so, feel free to post a ship (s1 or s2 era) into my comments ( like MichealxAsh or MichalxPike)


	23. Stepping to the end game

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, this is shorter than the last one but I'm hoping to have the next one longer :) 
> 
> I thought it was time to take a quick break with Lorca and all than focus back to Michael given how fast it all seems to be going but the next chap should be.
> 
> also, I'm currently working on the vampire!michaelxpike smut thing that you ( hbcfan2324 ) responded to in the last chap :) Feel free to keep an eye out for it. It'll be more like a fic then just them jumping each other. Michael has far more tact.
> 
> also, I am open for more relationship suggestions for it or the next one than just micheal & pike or ash. I can mix it up for like Tilly or even Georgiou but only if you guys want it :) I probably won't write it otherwise

“I never did believe in vampires.”

Lorca’s head rose as his fingers stroke along the brass blade of Georgiou’s sword, blue eyes turning to Landry though he couldn’t help the chuckle as she nudged one of the bodies on the floor. “Neither did I. Unless I met one.”

“Hm.” Landry frowned, not too convinced.

It didn’t surprise him there was doubt but he had his faith on the matter; Landry just had to see Michael herself to see the truth. She was what they, as a rebellion should become. To evolve to fight the bigger power as a better species. It seemed like destiny had played it’s part for _Michael_ to be the one, the first. It wasn’t a coincidence the one woman that started it all was changed. She was meant to do more. Ties of moral life were severed away. Now she was here; with a lot more to be offered.

He just needed to convince her of her new path now she was here.

“Just you wait, Ellen.” He twirled the sword in his hand. “She’s quite magnificent.”

“Dangerous, is the word I’d use.” Her shoe prodded the body again. “She did this… what If she decides to do this to _us_?”

Lorca smiled though he said nothing. He knew Michael well enough. She was able to be reasoned with. She may not understand his methods but he’d do what he could; she’d join him. Sooner or later.

“She won’t.”

“How can you be sure?”

“You really think I’d bring her here _without_ options?” He didn’t specify out loud though from his vest, he pulled out a small communicator-like device, about the side of a regular communicator, though it was sleek in appearance of dark grey with a button and a dial on it instead of the flip case.

A necessary precaution. He wasn’t a fool and he had learned a lot from Mudd’s little weapon modifications to recreate that. Vampires would need to be controlled for their sake of their human population. He knew Michael knew nothing on this and he intended to keep it as such.

“What’s that?”

“A thimble.” He winked before stepping from the throne. “Thing is, with Vampires, they have an extraordinary sense of hearing.” He added, more context for Landry. “Not just their speed or strength, but they’re predators at the end of the day. Capable of hearing a human heart beat from over a mile away. _This_ ship isn’t that long.”

Landry’s eyes widened in understanding, nodding quickly.

“Sir.” A new voice called to his attention. Eyes flickering from his second to the guard who came to a short stop. “We broke into the Emperor’s quarters and medical bay. We lost a lot of our men in that.”

“Michael?”

The guard shook his head. “Quarters were empty. We found a body and a lot of blood which identified to the Emperor but not her body. We were forced to pull back after breaking the medical bay. We can confirm the Emperor survived.”

Lorca’s lips pursed. Not what he had hoped for but… it’d leave him with the opportunity to kill the woman himself. If she was coming out of medical, then it was clear Michael had weakened her. Enough to work in his favour.

“Well then, locate her present position. She can’t fight or hide forever.”

“She still has most of the ships, including the escape pods.” Landry pointed out. “She won’t hesitate to blow this ship to hell if given the chance.”

Lorca shook his head. “Not true. I was able to shut down the decks and locked out all other controls except for here.” He twirled the sword and tapped one of the throne’s many columns; the metal ringing out. “I’d say, once the rest of our crew have the main battalions down, those who serve her will serve us in a sure amount of time. _Then_ we can worry about Georgiou.”

“Hm, your little monster took care of most of them.”

Lorca tittered at the use of the name. Either worlds, Landry never changed. It was almost amusing. “You’re a little low in the food chain to insult her, Landry.” He reminded softly though he sheathed the sword. “She may not be so kind to you like the last time.”

A mild look of confusion passed through the woman’s eyes but he turned his focus to the control panel and stepped up onto the throne. Now he had to appeal to Michael. The first step.

“Hello, Michael.” He let his voice run through the entire palace’s comm system. “I know you’d be able to hear this, even if I didn’t put this on Ship-wide. But, as much as I’d hate to admit it, we can’t yet track your location, aside from your communications hack off the ship 10 minutes ago.” He added. “I don’t intend to come to you but I know you’ll come to me.”

It took a moment, then the space ahead of flickered up as the holographic projector turned on; receiving the transmission back; the image of Michael’s face appearing out to him though he couldn’t help but be almost taken back by her appearance.

Her skin, while paling before was now flushed more with colour the new blood in her system, nno edge of dark circles under her eyes, the red now almost a brilliant in comparison to the crimson. Blood coated her face, mostly and thickly the lower part of her jaw and down her neck into her clothes. Her amour was tinged with an almost burned orange look to his eyes. Yet, despite the bloodied look, she looked otherwise good. _Fed_.

“What makes you think I will do that?” Her voice was indifferent, though her eyes narrowed. Her face once again was very passive though he could tell she was displeased.

“I’m sorry I had you do what you did but it was necessary.”  Nodding to her bloodied appearance. “But, Burnham. You belong here now.”

“With you?” Her eyebrow rose. “I do not see it.”

“I know you’re finding it hard to understand but everything I did, I did to get home. Just like what you did before. Before your own transformation.”

Michael didn’t move. Her stare solid enough he could mistake the screen to be frozen if it wasn’t for the blinking light behind her head.

“The Federation is destined to fall. It doesn’t have the will or the gall to fight the right battles, they put up their childish rules and enforce it into species under the belief of equality and betterment.” He shook his head. “You did what you had to do that day, Michael. Even at the cost; you did what you had to do to make a difference.”

“I started a War. Not the difference I had in mind.” Michael quipped.

Lorca chuckled. “But, you still did it. Now, here you are. The strongest one of all. But _they’ll_ hinder you. Your nature as a vampire is what you are… you’ve never been able to experience what you are without rules or regulations. Here, we can give you what you want, whoever you want… Plenty of Terrans and aliens to sate that never dying thirst. You’ll be able to… forge yourself a new life. A better one.”

Michael didn’t move though her lips pursed. “Are you asking me to turn you?”

Lorca didn’t answer though she knew his silence was just as profound. He had a future here. But his moral life was had to evolve for a new more durable one, like hers. It didn’t matter that she didn’t imprint on him, it would have been easier if she had but she could develop feelings towards him soon enough. Even if it wasn’t the romantic ones. That, for now was enough. Enough to get him transformed.

“What I’m asking for is you. Here. By my side. You’ll have a future here and I’ve seen what it’ll become. Ever since I first met you on the Discovery. Think about it.” With that, he closed both their lines. He had to wait, let her play her cards.

“She still creeps me out.” Landry dryly remarked.

 

* * *

 

Despite being dimmed, the pain only got worse as it spread. Philippa though hid this as she and her team carried on through her ship. It was now stabbing down her left side; spreading down her left bicep and was edging closer towards her elbow and had seeped down passed her collar bone towards her heart and each breath flared a new sense pain as her injected lungs inflated.

The Emperor had tested the burning places with her finger tips on the time that had passed, though she could feel the infected skin had cooled, it wasn’t solid like Michael’s had been. She saw that as a plus though her attention between the pain and her hunting of Lorca’s men was getting harder to divide. The ever present urge to sit or lie down was fought at every turn; that would lead her to not get up and she had no intention for that.

“Clear.” The voiced of her guards rang through the corridor as they swept through the science lab. She had to establish control.

The Emperor swanned to a nearby console though kept her grip on her rifle as she tapped along the screen. She was unable to help the wash of annoyance as the computer rejected her codes.

Lorca.

Bastard.

“This one is working Emperor.”

Immediately, her attention swam to one of her guards, also at a station but seemed to be otherwise further in access. She narrowed her eyes. Lorca obviously planned this against her, he must use her proximity to fully lock her out of the system, her eyes flickered to her bracelet then to the console.

“Reroute power from the thrown room’s life support and that entire deck.” It would take them a while to notice, but hopefully enough time for her.

“Working,” His fingers tapped along the screen though the emperor watched him work. “I can’t seal of the decks, Emperor. If you want to cut off life support, it had to be ship wide.”

“How long until we run out of air?”

The Guard paused, thinking this over. “About 7 hours until the carbon dioxide becomes lethal with the amount of people and equipment the we use. Longer the more die.”

“Do it. Let’s get to deck 34.” She knew there’d be emergency EV suits. Plenty enough time and oxygen. Waiting Lorca out unless they got ahead of him was the best course of action. Although Philippa did feel a welt of concern. 7 hours wasn’t a short amount of time. Her fighting ability was hindered by the infection. What state would she be in that amount of time?

Her communicator buzzed, drawing her attention.

“Out.” Her eyes followed each of her guards as they left, waited until she was alone until she flipped it open.

“Emperor.”

“Dr Culber. You found a cure?” Her demand stern but his silence between an immediate answer inflated a welt of annoyance.

“No. Emperor.” His voice turning grave, “I’ve been monitoring your vitals since you’ve left but the spread is getting closer to your heart and your spinal cord.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Go on.”

Culber sighed heavily. “Once it hits your heart, the spread will go throughout your cardiovascular system very quickly.”

“And?”

“When it hits your spinal cord, the infection will cause you to go into an unresponsive state, like locked-in syndrome. From what I can see, you’re about 23 minutes away from that. I assume it’ll break once the infection is fully spread.”

The emperor’s eyes narrowed into slits. Her hand coming to her throat, finger tips gently touching over the cooler, infected flesh. “Why _that_ response?”

Culber’s voice remained solid and professional in his answer, matter-of-fact even. “The venom, from my assessments, it’s… breaking down the biological flesh and reconstituting it into a crystalline matter. You’re still in the early stages of it but the left clavicle, humerus joint, scapular, and outer edges of your cervical vertebra are showing signs of reconstitution into the new matter. Tendons and muscles will follow once the bones have transformed and start the breakdown of your internal organs an—“

“Yes, yes. I see a pattern.” No wonder it was hurting. But if Culber was right, she was on a clock. She couldn’t wait Lorca out, but she also couldn’t run head in without knowing the full extend. Moving her arm, though she could, it did hurt a lot more. Clearly this venom was designed to not kill them in the process given what it was doing but… if that was happening now, getting a cure was one thing but reversing the damage… “There is no cure.”

More a statement than a question.

“No. Emperor. My apologies for this failur—“ Philippa didn’t allow the doctor to continue, snapping the communicator  and threw it hard. She vaguely heard it hit something and ricocheted away but she felt a seething broil of anger wash through her next.

She was turning… and she was going to be _vulnerable_ throughout.  Even if she was get escape somewhere, they’d still find her in 7 hours in that state when they slaughtered her supporters; as small as the number had become since the attack, her recovery and now.

Lorca had really planned this to the detail.

Her hands clenched tightly but she forced herself to take a breath and tightened her grip back to her rifle. Well, she had about 25 minutes on her clock, the empire had by now seen her neck. Going down in a fight seemed the most logical course of action; at least then, she’d make her attempt at Lorca.

“Guards.” Immediately the door opened, she cocked the gun. “New plan. Let’s take the fight to him.” If they wanted to argue, they didn’t and composed their expressions and immediately followed her, guns raised.

Any rebel they came across fell with a quick shot, going for the ambush approach. A few of her own Men were lost but they were fully trained. Though she felt her heart beat increase… the burning increasing through her chest; breathing got a little harder but she kept to her pace; her eyes slitted through the scope. Her finger poised for the next shot until—

The air was knocked from her lungs; a vice grip suddenly wrapping around her shoulders. Her vision spinning before she found herself face-to-face with two bright blood-red eyes.


	24. Terran Endgame

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again, not a too big of a chapter but my laptop is playing up. But I feel this was a good place to end with.   
> Pass on some love and your comments. I'd love to hear them.

Getting an estimation of Discovery’s arrival was much shorter than planned but nothing Michael couldn’t work with. Now fed, even her thinking seemed to be faster, her control felt unprecedented from before. She couldn’t deny her self-control before had been stretched far passed the limits, but now she knew the differences.

Planning, though, she had heard enough from Lorca. He was obviously tied into this delusion of her being here. She hadn’t ruptured the idea of course; his desire for her to stay was far too…exploitable. Resistance would be believable and playing it so was necessary.

But she couldn’t do it alone. She was not in her frenzied state, nor would Lorca provoke her into it so she needed a trigger to work her own morals into a literal slaughter. Someone or something. Someone that Lorca wanted dead. Someone who had the same interest to take him down.

Philippa Georgiou was… the only option now. Even though she believed she was the enemy. But the emperor would have little choice really but Michael hoped that she’d accept the fact she was not the daughter she thought she was. Just another Michael. But not _her_ Michael.

It was going to be a long conversation and Michael could already imagine how it was going as she crawled along the Jefferies tubes. Philippa was going to be pissed, by instinct; scared of her. Trust was not going to be on the table but they’d have a mutual enemy. That should be enough. After all, this Georgiou was Terran. It was their way.

Corridors weaved around her, following her nose and the sound of gunfire and collapsing bodies. Michael didn’t have to go too far until the Emperor was back insight. The men around her were meaningless as she weaved through and grabbed Philippa and shoved her against the wall, pulling her gun then darted away; leaving the small group without their emperor.

Michael came to a short stop as soon as she made it into her counterpart’s bed room then moved to secure the door. Her fingers dug into the metal door frame, the low grindings as she forced the handles to overlap into a rough bow then turned her attention away.

Philippa was hunched over, breathing heavily but her gaze was straight to her, her heart racing though Michael couldn’t help but note the woman’s pale pallor and worrying lack of _reaction_ to the venom in her system.

In her scent though, Michael did pick up the smell of a drug in her blood, tinging her scent with a sour edge but Michael quickly concluded that it was a type of painkiller, given she wasn’t strapped down and _screaming_ with the pain given how long since her bite. It impressed her for sure it had even been developed in the first place.

Philippa’s hand moved to her neck, stepping back. “What the hell…” Though she straightened up.

Michael held her hands out, “I’m not here to hurt you.”

Despite all, this made the emperor scoff. “I think we’re _way_ past that, dear.” Her voice laced with venom as she spoke.

“It was not my intention, Philippa. You know what I am. Lorca used my thirst and had me starve myself to retain my human cover. I snapped.” Michael answered, her fingers came to her face, knowing she looked…worse than what the Emperor had last seen her as. Hardly painted a picture of trust. “I am sorry.”

Philippa’s breath evened out though her hand curled around the hilt of her dagger.  “It’s _Philippa_ now?”

“I am not your daughter.” Michael stepped closer though to relief, Philippa didn’t move back. “I know that given today’s events, it might sound unlikely but before today… _we’ve_ never met.” She guested a finger between them. “I am Michael Burnham but I am not _your_ Michael Burnham. I come from another universe, where there are more of my kind.” Even if that was just Cornwell— not the point.

From her pocket, she pulled out her Philippa’s badge, holding it so the emperor could see before she stepped forwards slowly. The weariness of the human in front increased, eyes slitting in further distrust before those brown eyes flickered to her palm, the federation badge glinting innocently up in the burned light. There was hesitation but carefully, the emperor reached forwards and plucked it from her hand, withdrawing quickly as her warm fingers brushed the cool palm of skin.

“That is my captain’s badge.” Michael started, stepping away to allow the woman to see it. “It also contains a quantum variance of my world. I know there’s no way for you to test it without a scanner but… I hope it will be enough.”

There was a soft intake of breath, so soft it was almost miss-able if it weren’t for her hearing as the text of the badge shone into view. Soft fingers touching over it for a second before her palm wrapped around it. Michael waited though.

Philippa moved, though not quite turning her back, there was a discontent agitation to it. .

“You’re from the United Federation of planets?”

Michael’s eyebrows pulled together but nodded. “I am. Me and my ship were…taken here under Lorca’s scheming. We originally thought it was an accident. He used me to get here…to attack you.”

Philippa eyed her for a long moment then back to the badge. While believing— to a degree, she didn’t trust her.

“I am sorry for that.”

“You _infected_ me.” Anger coloured the woman’s tone, a hand returning to her neck; where she could see the edges of a dressing.

Michael pursed her lips softly though somewhat nodded. “I cannot help with that. Once the venom is in, it’s in.”

Philippa growled out in annoyance, stalking away towards the bed before seating herself at the end, her body flushing with heat, with anger though the evidence of pain was becoming clear. Michael could smell how far she was along. She moved closer, watching the subtle signs as the emperor flinched as she appeared though allowed her the badge to be taken from her, feeling the comfort as it was back in her pocket. Safe.

“I know there’s nothing I can say to offer trust… but I need you to help me.”

The quizzical look flashed through Philippa’s face. “Help?” She scoffed lightly. “With what you can do, you don’t need it.”

“No, I need his guard down, to stall him until my ship gets here.”

Philippa sucked her teeth, debating quietly for a long moment and fingers tracing over her neck still. “What’s you plan?”

“I need to turn off the containment field surrounding the energy orb. I haven’t been able to access any computers but I suspect the controls are…exclusive.”

The Emperor nodded tightly. “In the Throne room.”

“I suspected as much.” Michael inhaled deeply before lowering herself down more to her level. “I need you to be bait for Lorca. Play limp and weak, they shouldn’t see you as a big threat with me in the room, plus, I think Lorca doesn’t expect me to go to him empty handed.”

If possible, the emperor looked even more soured. “He’ll kill me straight off.”

“Not likely. Given the spread of venom in your system, the areas its passing is making the skin impenetrable before it hardens when the rest of the biological systems turns. You’re still too early to be fully protected by this but—“

“I don’t care for the details.” Philippa interrupted, eyes flashing “I don’t want details, I want it to go away. It hurts and I cannot afford weakness if you’re about to hand me off to Lorca!” She snapped.

Michael growled, a warning but that didn’t put the Emperor off much.  “I know the risks. But I know you don’t have the luxury of time to argue against me. I’m going to stop him. Maybe you’ll get to kill him…. But I cannot go there without you. You will secure his delusional belief that I am on his side.”

Philippa’s face darkened but after a moment of debate, she forcibly nodded. “I hate that you have a point.” After a moment, she pushed herself up onto her feet, mentally steering herself ready

Michael rose up as well, straightening out her armour though her eyes drifted down to the emperor’s armour for a moment. “Maybe—“

“ _No_. You’re _not_ going to touch my amour with any intention to break it open like the last time.”

“I just want you to look the part.” Michael reasoned.

Philippa shook her head sternly. “No.”

Michael glowered then moved forwards and in a second, scooped the Emperor up into her arms. Her weight balanced though she felt the heat in the steely look as Philippa’s brain caught up. After a minor adjustment, the Terran allowed herself to rest her head against her shoulder and fall limp. Michael could feel the grumble resonate without her having to say anything though suppressing the slight smirk, she darted from the room— the handle dealt with a swift kick.

Michael slowed to a regular pace as she neared the heartbeats of the rebels. All turned their guns at her though she noted their eyes widened and heart beats increased, especially when they realised who she was holding.

“Take me to Lorca.” Her voice was toneless though the guards had their guns pointed to her, the feel of the threat tingled her fangs but she withheld as they led her back to the throne room.

Ahead, one of the rebels had a hold of their communicator. Though their shoulder hid the screen, it was easy to figure the why. From the throne room, she heard the receiving chirp. It almost made her want to roll her eyes. So predictable

 _“She’s here.”_ Landry’s voice echoed loudly in the throne room.

The doors opened though her eyes found Lorca even before she stepped past the threshold.

His face had a few cuts down, blood long-dried and still dressed up in his protective vest, fiddling with Philippa’s sword in hand but now, it was the expression in his face that matched the rest of the people.  As soon as he saw her, his lips pressed together in a closed smile, eyes lightening up though there was a question that receded within them as he saw the limp woman in her arms.

“Michael.” He chuckled. “I am surprised…”

Michael frowned, tilting her head if fake curiosity. “Did you not anticipate my arrival?”

That made him laugh softly, almost to agreement. “I…didn’t _quite_ expect this.” Nodding to Philippa. “She alive?”

“Barely.”

He eyed her cautiously though his grip tightened on the sword before he moved closer. “I did expect you to kill her.”

“I got distracted by her guards. I wasn’t exactly picky when they had more blood in their veins at the time.” Michael shrugged, causally. “I didn’t quite realise how… _good_ it was.” She looked away, to seem abashed though her gaze drifted down to Philippa’s face. The woman’s acting was on point; she looked to be asleep.

Lorca’s head turned, his eyebrow shooting up. “You like not having the federation’s leach?” This was his way of double checking; as if anticipating she’d go for the option he had presented her earlier.

“You were right…” She looked up to him. “Since day one, I’ve _always_ had the restrictions. Now… I suppose I won’t have that to the same degree anymore.”

That caught his full attention, eyes widening a fraction but the excitement tinkled in his gaze with almost baited breath.

“But,” Michael carried on, her eyes boring into his intently, emphasizing that there was more than just primal desires in her motivation. He knew her better than that. “This decision is also made on the basis that you spare Discovery and her crew and allow them to leave.”

His eyes flickered down. “And…Philippa here? She may not be dead yet but I will have to kill her to secure my place on the throne. Are you willing to give her up so easily?”

Michael looked down, pondering even. “She’s not like _my_ Philippa. She only wears her face and bared the same name…” She looked up back to Lorca. He nodded to a guard who holsters his weapon and stepped forwards, arms open to receive the emperor. Michael immediately growled possessively, fangs sharpening in an instant. Her arms curling the emperor against her body more. A slight hitched intake from the woman was the only indication of discomfort. This guard’s eyes widened and stopped head, his pulse picking up as his instinctual fear tingled down his spine. The others around them twitched with unease, especially Landry.

“Michael.” A note of careful warning in Lorca’s tone.

“I still see her as food.”

That almost amused him but he nodded her to the guard. Hesitantly, she adjusted her grip; assessing the guard’s stance, weapons— both phaser and dagger- both would be in the Emperor’s grip within a moment’s notice. She growled softly as a warning at him though as she gently passed her along but the guard immediately had to compensate; not realising the emperor’s true and sudden weight that almost made him drop her; Michael though didn’t hesitate to adjust his grip. It still amazed Michael that Philippa was able to retain her unconscious appearance. But that felt like a good enough warning on the Emperor’s acting abilities.

Her eyes watched as the guard stepped back, the guns less on the emperor though all to her.

“Sir, Discovery’s closing in on the ship.”

Lorca nodded though his gaze returned back to Michael, eyeing her up for a moment, his pulse picked up with excitement. She held his gaze. From his pocket, he gently pulled out a small communicator like device.

Michael frowned softly before a high pitched sound resonated from it, one that sent a dull shiver down her spine….resonating through her body. A hiss escaped her lips, had hands clamping over her ears.

“Ease, Michael.” Lorca assured, pocking the device as it still blared, “Don’t get me wrong. I’m glad you’re joining the cause but precautions have to be made.”

“You can’t hear it?!”

He shook his head. “No. it’s out of human hearing range but this resonating frequency… I find is quite disagreeable with crystalline at high speeds. I hope you understand my reasoning.”

Her eyes narrowed but forced herself to nod. He was slowing her down…. But where that technology came from wasn’t a surprise. The bastard had learned from Mudd…. Of course he wanted to find a way to control her… She could feel her instincts coil within her, to jump at him, tear away and crush the device.

Lorca moved back, stepping merrily even as he got to the throne. Michael watched his every move, each tap and swipe. “Discovery’s in communications range. I think it’s time to say our farewells.” Stating that was for her benefit no doubt. He stepped back formally though her eyes watched as a holographic screen flicked up; exposing the entire bridge of Discovery to their sight. It was a welcome sight. Even if it hadn’t been that long.

Saru, Detmer…Rhys, Bryce… Owosekun, Airiam. Serious but focused. A clear sign for her that had a plan and a way. Whatever it was, they were waiting on her. It filled her with confidence and pride.

“Mr Saru.” The smile hung in Lorca’s voice as he spoke. “It’s good to see you. I’m glad I got to say good bye to you and the rest of the crew. I want you to know that my admiral for you was and _is_ sincere.” His back straightened as he spoke. “Now, when I look at you, I see a formidable unit of soldiers that I crafted. If I thought for a second you’d shed your cult-like devotion to the federation, I’d enlist you and your skills—”

“We’re not interested to listen to your sentiments, Lorca. Where’s Specialist Burnham?” Clear that Saru wasn’t putting up with anything that came from his lips. It was…enjoyable to observe.

“She’s fine. More than fine really… because of her choice to stay, I’ll allow you all to leave.”

“I will need conformation from her, you are not a reliable source.”

Her lip twitched though she watched as Lorca stepped aside.

“I’m _right_ where I _need_ to be, Saru.” She spoke, calm and collective as ever before winking.

Saru nodded stiffly but the hint of satisfaction lined the delicate folds of his face. “Thank you. That is all I needed to see.”

The momently flicker of confusion hung only a moment in the air, but she knew Philippa took that as her cue. Suddenly rolling from the guard’s arms and shoved his dagger up nose and pulled out his phase in the same strike.

Michael moved; feeling how her body reacted with movement, each step flaring mild pain; forcing her to stick to a human pace but she was far more durable as she swung her fist against the ribs of the closest guard without holding back the force; she was slower, but she was still strong.

The bones crunched but she didn’t have the time to think much of it as she dodged a phaser blast, taking cover before the windows were shot in by phaser fire. It sunk heavily in the air, the feel of it almost electric but it was all the distraction she needed. Guns fired of those who recovered, dodging them with ease, but the pain grew.

Then Landry suddenly took her on like a fool— also aware Philippa was fighting Lorca— knocking out her weapon was almost too easy, the look of surprise echoing on the woman’s face but this wasn’t the Landry she knew to feel all too upset on hurting. She dodged the weak fist and grabbed the woman’s wrist and squeezed; the bones crunching immediately as if they were made of glass; her screams echoing around but movement caught her attention throwing the human female into the blast of the weapon; disintegrating her…

Again, Michael dodged the second blast and the soldier fell dead with a swift crack— her eyes turning to Philippa but she could see the effect of both fighting and venom was having on her; movements slower and Lorca was exploiting it quickly; shoving the emperor to the floor and raised the sword. Michael grabbed a fallen knife, tossing it and watched with mild satisfaction as it truck her former captain  between the amour of his shoulder; a low grunt of pain but Michael moved forwards.

Lorca yanked the knife out but she slid in front of Philippa, intercepting the blow to her neck; feeling the metal cave… then the suckle sounds of cracking metal before the integrity failed; the blade snapping halfway… then the sounds increased. Pain running through her entire body… just about grabbing his hand before she felt her body lock up fully.

Then there was quiet for a second, filled only with Lorca’s heavy breathing in front and philippa’s rapid breath and heartbeat behind her.

“Did you really think I had _one_ setting?” He growled, anger in his voice, no longer holding the blade but the silver device “If I pushed you now, you’d shatter like you did before… What stops me from lighting you up is you’re important for my future…. I won’t have to resemble all of you if you keep resisting, Michael…”

She glared with heat, fury rising within her but his focus was on her, the buzzing got hight but she couldn’t move…couldn’t breath or cry out; her body stiff as a statue  but she could feel white-hot snags of pain… running down her all old shatter scars…feel it spread up… up her chest, neck… cheek. A sense of fear ran through next as she realised that she was cracking….

Then Lorca jerked suddenly in surprise; blood suddenly spurting from his lips; the closeness, she could feel it coat against her skin; but the broken edge of a blade stuck out through his chest… but She could see the figure of Philippa behind; pulling the blade back; more blood though she remained frozen. Watching both as Lorca choked on his blood, falling to his knees…and Philippa as she dropped the blade down but Michael’s mind was to the pain radiating more down her wrist; the integrity there weakening; then with a audible crack, her wrist gave and Lorca slumped to the floor; dead.

Her weight immediately began to shift without his; unable to move, she could feel herself start to fall forwards...until pair of warm arms caught her quickly.

“Michael?” She could sense the emperor’s concern and confusion but the woman gently lowered her down to her back, leaving her staring up to the ceiling. A relief but she could feel the cracks still spread...the words on her tongue but she could say nothing… Philippa’s fingers touched lightly over her face; over the cracks before she disappeared from her line of sight… then the dull sound of a phaser discharge then the sound was gone, her body was released.

A sharp gasp leaving her lips but she hissed out in pain. Her hand clamping around the stump of her hand

“Fuck!” She pushed herself up, her body compensating and could feel as the cracks began to close… her hand lay a meter away. Michael didn’t hesitate to grab it, shoving it back on, pain sering down though it was just as much of a relief…

“Here…” Philippa’s voice was strained, the mission was on point. Michael forced herself back up— a part of her glad that she had over fed; the extra she could feel was being put to good use in her biological repairs. Michael touched over the screen, satisfied as it confirmed the containment field had dropped…

Her mission was done…

Philippa let out a heavy breath, her hand coming to her chest… Michael’s attention moved but she could hear why; her heart had taken a very rapid beat… the smell of the venom had reached her heart, spreading now… more pain if the painkiller had worn off. She seemed to sink to the floor… gritting her teeth.

“Philippa…” Michael moved, kneeling down but Philippa shook her head, leaning from her touch against a metal column, sweat beading over her forehead.

“Kill me…”

Michael blinked in surprise. “What?”

“Kill me.” Philippa panted out, shaking her head. “I… don’t…want to be...like you.”

Michael frowned but she shook her head. “I can’t— I can’t do that.”

Philippa’s eyes closed, a wash of pain flickering through her face though. “I’m…not… _her_.” Her words slurred together but Michael knew what she meant but even then, she couldn’t kill her…not now.

Moving forwards. Michael couldn’t help herself but scoop her up… her fingers coming into contact with a communicator from her belt, her attention on the emperor as she succumbed to the venom as she ordered the extraction…then everything was swallowed in gold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, I'm still up for writing more smutty fics with a trek!Vamp of choice. the others are still in development. much slower now with my computer issues but please, suggest more.


	25. Home Again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is more of a filler chapter but there's a lot to catch up on lol since the've been away. Still, I hope you like :)
> 
> I've got a new laptop, though getting used to the new key board. I've been a little more focused on this sotry than all my others, simply bc i'm closer to it's end atm than the tohers. 
> 
> I am restarting my blend of s1+s2 fic, under the wings of the red angel; I can write better and got the plot figured out. I do need to catch up on the fic, It shoudn't have be her, where Michael died at the binary stars instead of georgiou. My muse for that is a little lower but I'm hoping that once this is more done, i should also beable to focus on those ending few chapters. 
> 
> I do have those other mini fics in plan but again, been otherwise focused so I might get to them sooner or later. but they're there.

Her arms were empty as the gold faded to the sight of the transporter room. There was a single technician by the console, the doors shut and otherwise quiet; hearing distantly the bridge; the command as Saur called for them to jump into warp… but her focus shifted to the emperor.

She was lying on the transporter pad beside her, flat on her back, her eyes closed but Michael knew she was fully conscious, able to hear the world but now the venom had reached both heart and so she was entering the next stage of the transformation. Her hand ached and flared as she twitched, the whole room giving a jolt but she gasped out as she felt the shift in the air; the rattle that run through the metal, resonating even through her body; more so down her wrist….

‘Black alert’ the alarm ringing distantly.

Her hand clamped around her wrist, feeling the crack that still lingered but the ship’s motion seemed to rock and shake so she kept herself low to the floor, digging her heels into the glass…. It didn’t stop.

All around, Michael could hear the thumps and sounds as the crew reacted to the rough moves as the ship shook… being tossed around; finding an anchor in gripping what solid surface they could….

Then the jolt that lurched her forwards and the whole ship came to a stop; the feeling in the air vanished though it took a moment longer before the pain subsided. She clenched her hand, testily but she still had full movement of the limb, no lasting damage.

A relief.

“Is she okay?” The voice caught Michael off guard, jumping to her feet in an instant, a growl ready to rip before the moment caught up to see it was simply the transporter technician, his warm brown eyes flickering to the Terran Emperor’s prone form that had slipped more towards the steps down from the pads.

Michael turned though she could hear the woman’s rapid heartbeat and steady breathing to give him a nod. “She will be. Can you send word to prep one of the guest rooms with a bio monitor?” She’d need to keep her vitals on the monitor; a better way to keep track of the woman’s changes to the point than rely on her scent or heartbeat.

Leaning down, Michael gently slipped her arms back under the human’s body and gently lifted her back up into her arms though Philippa’s head lolled back more as her head lifted off the surface though she suddenly realised that…this was not going to be easy to explain. Saru was going to be furious…

The door opened.

To her discomfort, it _was_ Saru.

His face flashed through a few emotions as he saw both her and Philippa. Surprise, but instinct drew his threat ganglia out as usual. Surprise quickly turned to a second of disbelief before…

“Captain?”

Michael shook her head. “I’m sorry.”

He stepped forwards though he seemed to understand; after all the amour was a dead giveaway to the woman’s Terran world. He inhaled deeply, his hands rising to his threat ganglia and collecting himself quickly.

“Can she hear us?”

“She’s entered the next stage but she’ll remain conscious throughout. I’ve already requested a room for a monitor. I’ll…need to stay with her once I’ve cleaned up.” God knew who messy she looked.

Saru nodded softly, ganglia way and his hands dropped “Transport our…guest to the room. Burnham, you can set up the monitor fully once you’re done with me. We may need you on the bridge.”

Her eyes turned to the technician who nodded and tapped along the screen; gold light stealing Philippa way though some part of her was…annoyed; that they were taking her away from her but rationally, she knew it was temporary.

“Now, the presence of having a Terran defector is to be regarded as classified. Its utterance will carry a penalty of treason, do you understand?”

The technician nodded quickly with a wash of nerves. “Aye, Captain.”

_“Captain, your presence is requested in sickbay.”_

“Acknowledged.”  Saru nodded her away with him. “With me.”

As they walked, Michael listened out briefly. The crew sounded active again and quickly, working to the ship’s structures. Repairing damage if she wasn’t mistaken…. She could hear Paul and Tilly in engineering, talking of repairs to the drive—the loss of their spores…

“I’m sorry I brought her with me, Sir.” Michael spoke up, turning the corner with him. “I know I could offer up excuses but… I just didn’t want her to die again… nor did I think I could just leave her lying there.”

Saru sighed out but nodded again. “I know. Guilt comes in many forms. Though bringing a _turning_ human, a _terran_ no less, may not have been the smartest of impulses you’ve had. However, there are few that would have done what you did. We’re home and you’re safe.”

She bobbed her head. “Any word of star fleet command?”

“We’ve received on our long range scanners of a few ships heading our way. They’ll intercept in 3 hours. I’ll need you on the bridge for that.”

“Yes, sir.”

They entered the turbo lift though a few questions popped up, a welt of concern following.

 “What happened with Lieutenant Tyler?”

Saru inhaled deeply. “After we transported him back… he started to deteriorate mentally to a…aggressive, Klingon like manner. In this state he attacked Dr Culber but security stopped him from any permanent harm.”

Michael’s eyes flashed to Saru in concern. “Is he okay?”

“It was just a scrape. Dr Pollard is treating Tyler now. I think Stamets may have killed Tyler if Culber tried to treat him again…or go near him.”

Michael pursed her lips but she understood. Culber was okay, no doubt shaken up but the instinct to protect him from Tyler would be too strong for Stamets if faced with a possibility.

“And Ash? I never got the full details.”

“Yes…” There was an edge of hesitancy that lingered. “After running assessments, it seemed that… Lieutenant Tyler had been…integrated with a Klingon on a physiological level.”

Her eyes widened. “He was a Klingon?”

“Not _quite_ to that extreme. From what we know, Tyler was taken at the battle at the Binary stars, moved around to many prison ships before L’Rell saw him as an ideal candidate as a spy. From what we know, they graphed a Klingon’s neurological identify into his brain then reactivated Tyler’s original personality and memories on top.”

“Dear god…” That sounded awful but that still left open a lot of questions. Clearly, Tyler was no doubt…Tyler again but it explained more to his behaviour. To why he thought he was both when he cut himself on the Shenzhou. The trauma behind it easily masked as torture.

“The Klingon you brought from the Sarcophagus happened to be L’Rell. I was able to convince her to… neuter the foreign identity from Tyler’s neurological patterns.” Saru carried on.

So that was their Klingon’s guest… of all the Klingons she brought; she had to bring the one that _did_ that to Tyler to start with. She must have started to activate the Klingon mind within him.  L’Rell had to do it to not only avoid the Starfleet sanctioned medical rules, but to save him…

They carried on walking though the distinct familiar disinfectant smell of the sickbay flowed down the corridor though Ash’s scent too; signalling an open bay door. As if she had some sixth sense or better hearing, Dr Pollard popped her head out around the corridor before the rest of her white, uniformed body followed her out.

“Captain, He’s wake.” She stated calmly, her brown eyes flickering to her before frowning deeply with a mild shift of discomfort.

Saru looked to her with a quick nod. “I was hoping, Burnham, that you could see him. A familiar face might encourage him to heal”

She felt his side glance though she nodded. Of course, he was still her friend. If he had tried to kill her, perhaps it was another story but she owed him that for her part in all of this. “Of course.”

He nodded, a hint of relief in his shoulders before he looked to Dr Pollard. “How is he?”

Pollard sighed. “He’s identifying as Ash Tyler again. We can’t seem to find any traces of Klingon activity within his neurological activity nor any foreign changes to his body. There’s no risk of this… Klingon being triggers now. But medically, I’ve had to completely discharge him from any ship service until we can determine the science behind it and potential effects.” Her voice sounded grave but there was plentiful logic behind. The medic outranked the captain in that regard.

“Of course.” Saru nodded.

Michael’s nose picked up his scent getting heavier, impatient, she darted forwards ahead of them and stopped as she came to the door. A low sigh escaping her chest as she saw Ash sitting on the bio bed, dressed down in the sickbay medical gowns and looking like a somewhat kicked puppy.

It took a moment though she moved forwards at a human pace. “Ash?”

His head spun to look at her, blood flushing into his face and he almost seemed to jump up. “Michael.” A note of relief in his voice. His shoulders relaxing. “I’m so sorry!”

Michael shook her head softly. “It’s not your fault, Ash.” She assured, though she stopped in front, allowing his face to take her in; blood and terran gear and all but he didn’t seemed to be bothered, just pleased to see her.

“How are you feeling?”

Ash looked away, his excitement of seeing her dying quickly before his body slouched. “I don’t know.”

She understood. A whole new change was… discomforting. “But you’ll be okay, Ash. Even if you’re not now, you’ll get there.”

Ash snorted, a little bitterly. “I’m… I don’t know. I thought I knew who I was… I thought the Klingons didn’t break me. I guess I was wrong.”  His voice tightening as if restricted but she reached forwards and placed a cool hand onto his shoulder.

“ _You_ are Ash Tyler. A Starfleet Lieutenant that has been through a horrendous ordeal. What happened wasn’t your fault, nor should it be held against you. I’m not angry or mad at you.”

“I wanted to kill you…but I knew… god I even knew I couldn’t do anything to kill you so—“

“No, _he_ wanted to kill me or expose me. Not you.” Michael corrected softly. “I suppose, if I was human, I may have a different approach but… I’m not. You just need time to heal. Mentally.”

Ash inhaled deeply but nodded. “I know.”

“May I ask, what…happened to the Klingon mind?”

Ash’s lips pursed though didn’t answer for a moment. “I…have his memories, but there’s nothing more. It all feels like… a dream. Watching someone else’s life a distance away.”

“And… do you know what was done to you?”

He said nothing. Implication clear enough that he wasn’t ready to talk to her about it.

Her ruby gaze lingered on his face for a moment though he closed his eyes, allowing himself a moment before he opened them, his lip curling up a little in amusement.

Her head tilted in curiosity. “What?”

“I know it’s not funny, but you look like you’ve walked out of a horror movie.”

Her finger prodded his arm but took it as good humour. “I do need to clean up.”

“Can you visit me later?”

Michael hesitated, pursing her lips but she nodded.

* * *

Getting into a shower had been one of the few things Michael found herself enjoying, taking the time and plenty of hot water to scrub all the blood away; the water running red, then pink then clear. Her terran clothes, she kept in a small pile on the floor; debating to recycle them or wash— she’d see later— and her new Starfleet uniform was a relief to slip into. She felt more herself with it on.

Though she knew her duty called as she strode to the emperor’s room. Her scent hit her the moment she stepped in. Her eyes found the woman; clear evidence that the technician hadn’t aimed correctly in getting her on the _bed_.

Philippa was lying on her back in the middle of the room, her legs tucked more under her, the amour looking to dig in and glinted in the passing light; none of the lamps where on…

Michael sighed heavily, darting forwards and carefully picked her up and carefully lowered the emperor down to the soft, double bed’s covers. Pulling her head to rest on the pillows and her legs straight, she moved the woman’s wrists to her stomach.

“I know you can hear me. You’re still 27 hours away until the transformation is over. I’m plugging your vitals into a monitor. I’ll stay for as long as possible but we’re… back in my universe now. I am sorry for… well, kidnapping you.” Michael started, glad to see at least the equipment had been transported too and started to set it up. “Starfleet is on its way. What happens with you is going to be determined by them, given you’re a turning vampire _and_ from another universe.”

She had vaguely heard something of a facility for vampires given the insistence of the admirals after she had bitten Cornwell, instead of having the admiral on Discovery for it.  She never had the chance to look into it.

Michael took a seat at the end of the bed, taking the unused PADD from the side though she took the time to start writing up her reports.

* * *

Michael remained undisturbed for about 45 minutes before she heard the chime. Her eyes narrowed, sparing a glance to the still woman beside her and rose to her feet, tucking the PADD away.

“Come.”

Michael blinked in pleasant surprise as she saw Paul enter. His ruby eyes taking her in then flickering passed her. His skin and face was still lined with deep cracks, the smaller ones near gone by comparison but it was clear to anyone that it was still healing. It reminded her of how she had been after Mudd had shattered her. Her wrist though gave a twinge; like Paul, it’d take time for that to heal up again. _Fully_. Damn Lorca and his toys.

Though she was ever thankful that the worst of it was gone but she didn’t want it to permanently scar her skin for eternity. Paul’s bite mark was bad enough.

“It’s good to see you in one piece, Stamets.” She remarked.

His lip twitched though he stepped in further until he was a meter in but made no attempt to get any closer. Which felt right. “I came to see how you are.”

“I feel I should be asking you that.”

Paul smiled then nodded, his hand coming to his face. “I was able to resolve the issues with the jumps so I shouldn’t shatter again.”

“I heard you took a mind-trip.”

“It was…informative. “ His eyes flickered passed her but didn’t elaborate for that reason.

Michael looked to Philippa and nodded. “As long as we’re not scraping you off engineering’s floor again…”

Paul’s smile dimmed but he looked more serious. “How are you feeling about… the deaths involved?”

Michael’s moon died a little, she knew it shone in her face before she masked it quickly. “I know I should feel bad on it.”

“Is it because they’re Terrans?” Paul inquired, his arms folding over his chest though he looked more curious than anything else, “or because they’re bad people?”

“No.”

Again, he didn’t look surprised. “I know what you mean.”

“You’ve never killed any humans, Stamets.” All his blood came from a replicator. He didn’t have the body count she did.

“Technically, _no_.” He mused, “But technically, _yes_.”

Michael eyed him. “ _Technically_?” She would have heard if he had killed someone.

“We were trapped in the time loop, Burnham.”

“Excuse me?”

“Mudd’s time loops.” Paul took a step forwards, “I remember of course, you do not.”

Her head spun with this new information but… of course. There was clearly a lot to the time loops she had missed nor caught up on… Mudd would have figured out that they drank blood… and he’d use that if the implication was hung right…

“What happened?”

“On a few loops, my thirst was tested and broken by spilt blood.” He looked away ashamed. “I… I killed a lot of our crew …I even got you to join in. We killed everyone. A few times.”

Michael’s breath caught, her stomach tightening.

“My self-control… _that’s_ where it was forged from. I _had_ to stop… I couldn’t take killing my friends…” He shook his head. “Now, this timeline. All my friends, the crew lived in blissful ignorance.”

“No one would have blamed you, Stamets. You were new to this life.” His self-control had surprised her; that he had claimed it so quickly. She hadn’t bothered to ask him about the loops; the damage that could have done to him.

“Not my point, Burnham.”

She stayed quiet.

“My point is, I know the enjoyment of killing for food. It’s… in our nature as a vampire but that’s…not _us_. I can look at each member of my crew like Tilly or Nilsson and recall the taste of their blood, the feel of their bones cracking under by hands…but I feel the guilt of their deaths that I caused. Over and over again. It’s enough for me. A perspective on who I am and what I am not trying to be.”

“You went through a lot of shit.” Michael huffed out, “I didn’t want to attack the Terrans…I just…couldn’t help myself.” That, she could feel the guilt for. The amount of terrans she had killed without mercy; loss of control and feral. The things she didn’t want to be.

“It’s a relief that the Terran world hadn’t changed you.”

Michael growled out her answer, though it echoed to hint playful annoyance than aggression though she felt some relief that… there was his understanding. Even if his murder streaks had been done on a new plane of time and wiped away, he was cursed to remember it all as if it really happened.

“I appreciate you checking up on me. Stamets.”

Paul nodded. “I didn’t come here without motive…”

Her eyebrow raised, questioning him to continue.

“The Starfleet vessels have picked up speed. Intercept in a few minutes. You’re needed on the bridge.”

* * *

Getting to the bridge didn’t take too long, departing from Paul, she slinked onto the bridge and took relieved the officer from the science station. Saru wasn’t there but she allowed the time to go over her station, finding relief in its normality. She missed this….

“You look happy.” Detmer’s voice remarked.

Michael looked up, supressing a smile though she couldn’t help but also feel the appreciation to the woman’s implants; dividing her easily from her recent experience with Detmer’s mirror counterpart. Her brown eye held warmth that the other her did not.

“Call it relief to be where I should.” She replied back.

Detmer chuckled though turned back to her station.

Her head turned as she heard the familiar sound of the turbo lift though she could see screens around her flicker, her own too as the sensors picked up the ships—so close now…

Then the doors pinged open.

“Sir, Vessels approaching. Federation signature.” Rhys informed brightly

“Hail them at once.”

“Aye Captain.” Bryce nodded, slipping back into his seat.

Alarms flickered up, warning alarms that suddenly set her on edge. Her hands gripped the side of her station, feeling the old indentations in it but all her senses went onto high alert

“Captain, It-it’s shields are up; phasers are charged and targeting!” Owosekun called out in alarm.

“Shield’s up!”

“I’m picking up an incoming transporter signature. We’re being boarded.”

Then gold suddenly washing around the bridge; taking humanoid shapes of human, andorian and tellerites but her focus was to the closets shape with a growl but she felt a wave of surprise to see… the face of _Ellen Landry_.

Unlike before, her face was paler and smooth in texture, teeth were bared easily with very prominent shapes of fangs but the dark red of her eyes was the easy give away that…the woman had turned…. There was no heart beat but her scent too was different to what she remembered, the soft hint of another lingering in it’s under stones but the presence of another vampire shot a warning through her instincts; that this one shouldn’t be here. Not on this _ship_.

Landry growled back. “Stay put, Burnham.” Black fully seeping into her irises.

All around her, her crew were forcedly made still and away from their stations; guns set to kill though _that_ was forcing her to stay still more than Landry. Another vampire complicated the situation; she could easily get the guns from them but Landry would stop or slow her now they were the same.

“I demand an explanation for this intuition!”

“We ask the questions.” The andorian called out. “Clear for transport!”

Her eyes didn’t break from Landry but she could see the gold; the scent of both a Vulcan and another vampire appearing.

“Admiral…”

“Where’s Captain Lorca?!”

The new voice caught her attention her dark eyes flicking passed Landry to see Admiral Cornwell, phaser in hand though she looked otherwise defensive. Her face had only slightly changed, like Landry, through her transformation. Skin was smoothly pale and dark hair was down, once blue eyes were near black; the tips of sharpened teeth only seen as she spoke.

“Sarek!”  Though she hadn’t seen her father face-to-face since her transformation, he didn’t look otherwise changed but held out a hand, as if to keep her in place.

Cornwell’s own growl called her attention once again but her phaser still remained to Saru—knowing too well that it was useless on her.

“Computer, initiate command-level override. Authorisation Admiral Katrina Cornwell, pi beta six.”

At once, all around then, the electronics powered down with a low groan, the power seeped away throughout the ship; startled sounds echoing but she knew the override wouldn’t stop the repair teams. The bridge was taken, not the rest of the ship.

**_“Override confirmed.”_ **

A low silence hung in the air but it satisfied the lead vampire enough to lower her weapon, nodding for Sarek to Saur.

“Start with him.”

Immediately though, a protective urge ran through her body, stiffening up with a silent growl as Sarek moved forwards, a warning hiss echoed from Landry.

“Ambassador, what are you doing?” Saur fell back, tripping a little into the captain’s chair as Sarek advanced on the Kelpien. Sarek’s fingers coming to his face.

“What the times requires.”

Michael’s fingers tightened though her focus was split, between, Sarek and Saur, Landry and Cornwell… Saru’s heartbeat was fast, no doubt at the mental intrusion but Sarek remained focused, his eyes closed though after a minute, they snapped open, a subtle change washing over his face though his eyes washed around, coming to her with a slight indentation to his brow.

“Commander Saru is who appears to be.” He started, even his tone changed to something softer. “The Discovery has been through a...Inconceivable ordeal.” The hint of… _knowing_ in his voice but it felt _assuring_ , enough for Michael to close her mouth and straighten up and away from Landry.

“Then where the hell is her commanding officer?”

Slowly, Sarek turned, inhaling deeply but they all knew…

“Captain Lorca is _dead_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehee, I've been saving a lot of ideas for the surprises of them getting back, like having Landry turned and all lol. 
> 
> Please, drop from love, some comments and any ship ideas for those mini smutty fics.


	26. Debrief with Cornwell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, finally done another chap. Though again, it's more to the story than the plot but the next chapter, we'll be going further! 
> 
> Now, other news. I've rebooted another sotry of mine, Under the wings of the Red Angel', I'd really appreciate it if you could give it a read, maybe drop from kudos and comments? I'd love to hear those thoughts.

Michael sat and watched as Admiral Cornwell stood motionless, her back to them with her hands on her hip and radiated the mood of anger.

“I can’t believe it.” Cornwell spoke again, turning around in an instant. Her eyes an inky black though her face not creased in the usual signs of a frown. Only her voice—beside her eye colour—gave the depth of anger. Lips covered any sharpened fangs. She was _furious_. “I knew he was acting different but…”

“An imposter from an alternative universe is hardly a…logical assumption when there is no context or implication.” Sarek reasoned. “We were all deceived.”

Michael looked away, feeling his gaze touch briefly to her but her focus was on Cornwell. A part of her…felt like there was some sort of connection. In the older woman’s scent was different to her human scent and certainly lacked the thirst-appeal.

As she had noted before, she could pick up her own scent in the undertones, just as Paul’s did. A trait of whose creations? Landry’s scent did seem to confirm it; Cornwell’s scent did lace in _hers_ …. Why did she think she had some sort of connection with her? Michael couldn’t fathom it past the logical conclusion it had to do with the fact she had turned her. Instinctual? Why was everything _that_?

Admiral Cornwell moved again, her arms crossing over her chest in a very human mannerisms. “But I saw the debris of Discovery with my own eyes. Our scanners confirmed it.” The question hung in the statements. It was clear to her that they weren’t dead.

“You’re not incorrect, but it was the _terran_ Discovery ship that was switched in our jump between the universes.” Saru piped up, waving his hands in a countering-swapping gesture as he spoke. “Its likely they were caught unaware when the Klingons decloaked; they didn’t have a spore drive nor any of its technology but was likely damaged in the crossing.”

“Hardly relevant now, but it makes…some sense.” Cornwell nodded. “We’ve made quick use of your cloak-breaking algorithm straight to the front lines and to all ships, stations and colonies.”

“How long were we away for?”

“11 months.”

Michael felt her eyebrows raise. 11 months. Nearly a _year_! And they were _still_ fighting?

The Admiral’s eyes flickered to her, a grim twitch of her lips before she shook her head. “It’s not been easy. But we’ve endured it due to… our side projects. Since my transformation, 11 months ago, I’ve turned a few humans to help turn the tides of war given our…advantages.”

“How many? I noticed Landry was one you made.”

“Twelve, including Commander Landry. Excluding Two others still in their transformations”

“Wait, _twelve_ vampires?” Paul’s voice was sceptical though not completely with dispute. It was caution. “How is turning that many a good idea?”

Cornwell eyed him for a moment. “It was necessary. After your supposed deaths, I was considered the _last_ vampire in Starfleet. Our Kind are useful and it’s kept the Klingons at bay for as long as it has done. They do consider us a threat that is serious and they’re not yet able to find the fault against vampires.”

“So they’re scared of us?” it was a question for clarification.

“ _bIr veqlargh DIvI'_ “

“What?”

“It’s Klingon _. ‘The cold demons of the federation’_ is it’s English translation” Michael spoke, though there was a lot lost in the translation, leaving a different ring in their ears. “I take it you advertised our kind to them to get them to back off?”

“No, but they soon picked up upon us after we had a few stationed to protect a colony and high-target ships, took care of the Klingon boarding parties in…record timing. 2 minutes. One Klingon escaped back and heeded their warnings of what they saw They’ve learned now to not enter any ships since they can’t detect vampire bio-signs and are very weary about any ships we have that don’t produce a bio-sign.” Admiral Cornwell spoke, tone unchanging, simply informative. “We have a few empties stationed and on auto for the pretence. It’s worked so far to our advantage in the more recent weeks. One Vampire was able to cripple an entire flag ship within ten minutes. Klingons haven’t entered that reign of space since.”

“Where are they now?” Michael pressed but Cornwell moved, leaning forwards a fraction and tapped to the holographic projector.

“Irrelevant to our current situation.”

Michael’s eyes narrowed a fraction but nodded.

On the projection, the territory map was clear to see the reduction of Federation space now occupied by Klingons. But not reduced down heavily which…was good. But it had been a long war. Perhaps something of vampires were good after all. Even with the amount of death tied in.  

“But, we still have huge loses of a few star bases. Starbase One we moved to a different system and a little further from the sol system. It’ll be the next line of defence we’ll have. Can you jump us there?” 

All eyes turned to Paul, a light frown seemly deepening the crack that stroked over his forehead. “We can’t. Our mycelium crops were damaged in the other universe and we were forced to use all what we had to get home.”

Cornwell’s face didn’t change, but it showed in her eyes of disappointment and frustration but it was their only option.

“The Klingons know Discovery houses vampires and unrivalled technology. They won’t risk an attack if they believe it’s operational.” Sarek reasoned.

The admiral nodded, if a little stiffly. “Then tell Lieutenant Detmer to get a course for Starbase One, there are things we will need to consider now that you’re back. But one thing is clear, we have to keep the knowledge of this other world quiet. Not off this ship nor to anyone off this ship.”

“Why?”

“The ship’s ability to jump, even accidently, to another universes opens up too many possibilities of...risks. Not to our world by Terran Influence but…the emotional aspects would be too higher risk.” Paul pointed out, before anyone else could speak. “if other people have an idea that they have loved ones on the other side that they lost… it would be devastating.”

“Exactly. Starfleet command would want it locked down for those reasons nor do we want anything from the Terran Empire to influence the wrong people.” Cornwell added. “We can get a cover story in place for anyone asking the questions, to why you were gone for so long. Now, Commander Saru, I want you to make sure every member of this crew understands that.”

“yes, Admiral.”

“Good. Is there anything else I should be aware of?” The Admiral’s eyes touching on her as she spoke.

Michael nodded softly. “It’s…complicated.”

A snort echoed from Saru though he made his point to dismiss himself to get the new orders out; vaguely hearing him speak to Detmer on their new location.

“Then uncomplicated it.”

“Could you accompany me?”

* * *

Michael slowed to a stop outside the room, Admiral Cornwell coming to a stop with Sarek in her grip, immediately getting down and allowing him the second to adjust. Green blood flushing through his veins that almost made him look queasy.

“I think I’d…rather transport next time Admiral.” He swallowed, adjusting his robes as he straightened, “I don’t think we’re… _meant_ to go at such speeds.”

“Just be thankful I didn’t give you whiplash this time, Ambassador.”

Michael’s fingers touched over the control, allowing the doors to open before she was immediately hit with a fresh new scent.  Even in the few hours since she had left. There was only the small changes to her scent… though there was still a definite human edge that still lingered.

“You _turned_ one?”

Michael nodded though Cornwell entered, following her nose though Michael darted ahead, putting herself between Admiral Cornwell and Philippa, feeling the swell of defensiveness… she knew it was a protective instinct, more so now when faced with an…unknown vampire, even if she knew the woman. The intrusion was still—on a base level—a vampire in _her_ space. Her ship. So close to something so vulnerable.

A soft growl resonated as Admiral Cornwell went to step around, her hand immediately clamping around the other vampire’s forearm.

“Burnham.” Sarek warned.

Cornwell’s attention flickered to her, Michael held her gaze sternly. She knew logically and rationally, that Admiral Cornwell wasn’t a threat, that she was her superior officer and had more experience with humans turning. But all her senses did not like her being here. So close to Philippa….

“It’s fine. Sarek.” Cornwell answered, unsurprised though her teeth sharpened in reaction. “Territorial instincts…especially to guard something so… _new_.”

Sarek moved, if by a few feet though she kept her focus on Admiral Cornwell more.

“Let me see her.” Cornwell’s gaze was solid, “I won’t hurt her. I can...help.”

“I understand.” But her grip did not slack.

Admiral Cornwell stepped back though Michael allowed her grip to loosen and tilted so the Admiral could see Philippa’s prone form on the bed. The monitor still going. It was easier to see the changes in the woman’s face. Her face paler by a good few shades and her hair was almost darker in contrast now, sleeker, despite the heat-straight style she had before. Her heart still thumped rapidly. If it wasn’t from her own experience, Philippa could almost be asleep.

“How long has it been since the bite?”

“Approximately 12 hours, 26 hour remaining by my estimations.”

“ _One_ bite?”

Michael nodded. “I was…distracted at the time. I only needed to do it once.”

Cornwell eyed Philippa for a moment, “if you want to speed it up, administer several more, get the venom to saturate the rest of the flesh than simply let the one change as it goes around. It’ll cut the time down to… 10 hours at the very least.”

Michael’s eyes flickered to Philippa. “I didn’t meant to bite her, Admiral.”

“Does not matter. You have done, now she is your responsibility so we need to decide what to do about it… the fact she looks like _our_ Philippa does little to help. I take it that’s why you took her?”

Hers silence was the answer so Cornwell carried on. “What does she know?”

“Basics about this universe from federation files, very little on the nature of our kind.”

“Once we’ve debrief at Starbase one, we can drop her off at our…facility designed for our kind”

“Yes, I recalled Lorca mentioning something of that…for you when you were turning.” It felt almost like a life-time ago to that now.

Cornwell nodded. “It’s the most ideal place for new vampires. She’ll be educated there. You will have to accompany her for the duration of her stay”

“ _What_?”

“ _You_ turned her.” Cornwell sternly answered back, her arms coming across her chest. “We put those rules into place for a reason, just as much as you’re in charge of Stamets. You created him too. It’s your responsibility to look after the vampires you make. These rules are to be enforced.”

“I have a prison sentence to return to, Admiral.  My duties are—“

“Not anymore.”

Michael blinked, surprise leaking through her body. There was a lot of implications to those words yet too vague to get a context. _Not_ having a prison sentence?  Did they give her a number or…remove it?

Admiral Cornwell moved back, looking to Sarek who stepped forwards.

“After turning Admiral Cornwell and putting effort into breaking the Klingon-cloak, it was seen as a triumphant effort of redemption in the eyes of a few. Admiral Cornwell’s transformation opened up the door that has kept the federation going longer than it would have been if she had died. Given the reports, you were the one that helped stall the Klingon flag ship and enabled the ship to collect the data. While the Federation didn’t get the algorithm then, it was…seen in good light of your efforts.” Sarek answered. “As a result, they you were pardoned posthumously—if you excuse the irony in such a statement.”

A part of her mind reeled to what Sarek said… the flicker of...light that seemed to lift from her shoulders… she was no longer a prisoner? Free? Michael wanted to believe it… enjoy and relish the feeling it should have brought her but she felt…cautious. No. It couldn’t be that simple.

“I can’t be.”

Sarek’s head tilted. “You doubt?”

“It cannot be that simple.”

Things never were. God, Sarek barely knew the half of it… what she had done and all those people she had killed. Her body count was too high to just…have it all dropped?

“Your record hadn’t been expunged, nor your rank restored but with your return, aid to end this war might help clear that path for you.”

Her head bobbed though…it felt to some relief. Not all was lifted. She still had to work for something—even if it hadn’t been her intention but with nothing else going for her, it seemed the only logical course of action to remain in Starfleet. “I see.”

Cornwell’s head turned, ruby eyes returning to Philippa. “The resemblance _is_ remarkable.” Her tone held a hint of curiosity in her observation. “Who is she? Aside from the obvious…”

“Terran Emperor.”

The admiral looked to her sharply and raised her eyebrow. “ _Really_?”

“Let’s not deter from the topic, Admiral.” Sarek spoke. “It will not change the fact that she is here now. I am confident in Michael’s abilities as her…sire to ensure this new born doesn’t not go rogue.”

“ _Sire_?” That was a new word.

“Long story. I’ll update your records on our species file for your reading. A lot of come up since our population growth.” Cornwell moved back, arms dropping to behind her. “We’ll be arriving at Starbase One  in a good few hours. Change her from those clothes. Keep the audio suppressors _down_ should we call. I don’t want to advertise to the whole ship where you two are. Understood?”

“Yes, Admiral.”

* * *

Michael mulled quietly as she watched the replicator get to work. She didn’t opt for uniform. Mostly since she knew that Philippa would most certainly throw a much bigger fit about wearing anything with Starfleet on it. So she settled to a basic Starfleet attire, such as plain trousers and a tank top with an accommodating blue sweater.

It felt weird, doing this. Knowing the Emperor was conscious while she’d change her… But she couldn’t deny, speeding up the process of her transformation would… be better in their current situation. Quicker done, quicker she could get her more…trained and accommodated to her new form. She was going to be so mad… her little fight with Paul had been brief but Michael knew this was going to happen again and she certainly had to win to keep her in check. But the difference was, Paul had never been trained to fight. Didn’t need to.

With a dig, the replicator finished and it’s draws opened like a flower, revealing the content. Her nose scrunched up at the smell that lingered though she patted it away to disperse it before allowing it to drop beside the prone form.

Her eyes carefully examining Philippa. _What was she thinking_? Michael mused though she could easily configure the colourful vocabulary the woman no doubt _wanted_ to express. She was certainly going to go to hell for this anyway.

Glad though the monitor was simply stuck on the skin and no wires, Michael began to carefully remove the first outer layers of the Emperor’s clothes. The armour, jacket and shoes, folding them neatly up. On her sleeves, she noted the few technological pieces. Unclipping them though put them into a separate pile, and any other small weapons she found concealed on her.

Dried blood though became far more apparent underneath; dried into the black shirt under; smelling wonderful, if a little stale but chunks of darkened blood coated more down her skin. No doubt from her original attack. Michael signed, peeling off the dark material and dropped it into a pile before darting to the bathroom.

Finding a bowel, she filled it with warm water before finding a sponge and retook her place next to Philippa.

“You’re still covered in blood. I’ll clean it away before redressing you.” She spoke for her benefit before she gently began to wash the sponge down her neck, removing the dressing, now redundant and down.

The water was left a light pink by the time she had done, leaving the bowl to the side, though she couldn’t help but feel the slight differences in her flesh as she did so. Not nearly so hard but definitely much too firm for a human.  

But, she knew now was the best time to introduce the fresh venom if she was going to make any sort of impact of speeding it up and without ruining hew new outfit. She licked her lips with a wash of new venom, moving onto her knees. She felt…nervous. It almost felt like she was turning Paul all over again, the anticipation. But unlike him, she wasn’t using a hyprospray.

Identifying the places to bite next was easy, adjusting herself to kneeling over… Michael took a deep breath, fangs sharpening out before she decided to bite the bullet—so to speak and leant down.

Unlike before, Michael was not fuelled by blood lust though it reminded her a lot of when she had turned Cornwell, her teeth sinking into the soft flesh, pulling out quickly and washing her tongue over the wounds; the skin knitting back and sealing into her veins. Wrists, thigh and ankles; no longer to need to go any higher than that though the taste of her blood was good. There was the undertones of her venom what still coursed in her veins, though it did little to really change how it tasted. But the lack of…appeal to get back and drain her was oddly satisfying…

Once she was done, Michael cleared everything away then sat down side her, her PADD in hand. Cornwell was right; she had a lot to learn and catch up on now….

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, i know it's not the longest chapter of mine but next one, we should be getting a look at vampire!Georgiou! hehee. I'm looking forwards to that.
> 
> Also, I'm working on the vampire!GeogiouxNhan smutty fic so I'm hoping to get that out SOON.  
> Tho, i know I said I'd write smut fics for ships, I tried to to a MichaelxTilly vamp one but...i just can't get my muse to work with that particular ship atm. I might, later down the line but I can't do it rn. 
> 
> Tho would anyone be against Vamp!Georgiou & Ash having a hook up or two in a fic?


	27. Star Base One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehe finally, Georgiou wakens! whoo!

Michael didn’t leave the room, keeping tabs on the bridge crew in terms of the general situation as she worked and read beside Georgiou. It turned out, a lot of happened since Discovery had left.

New words and phrases to start with. Such as, _Sire_ was the new word for a vampire who turned another. Its past-tense was for the new Vampire. New-born, designated for newly turned. Imprint had been taken to heart of the studies for their ‘mating rituals’. This had been studied through Landry, after her transformation she had found herself having imprinted to a security officer, Amna Patel, who had recently undergone her own transformation near enough of the same time.

Then there was the hierarchy of the clans. Which was most certainly _new_.

In depth reports of the new-borns Cornwell had created had showed an instinctual based clan formation, based primarily on dominating or submissive behaviour. A power dynamic that was held to the strongest lead vampire. A natural challenge of authority between new vampires to see which part of the ladder the vampire stood on.

It made sense to Michael now why Paul had attacked her after his transformation. She had forced him to submit, so he listened and to a primal degree, saw her as a leader. Something Cornwell had noted after hand. Though she knew her bond with Cornwell…. They were both leaders of their own clans. Paul was hers, now Georgiou. Cornwell would have been if she had been there through her transformation. Michael though knew her place to not feel the threat of her. Even.

But Landry was another matter…. She did want to attack Landry… put her in her place while she was in her ship…her territory.  Michael was displeased at the idea… but the gut sensation told her that if Landry stayed, someone was going to lose a limb to see who retained their position.

Then, Michael got more to the facility. Nicknamed Bloodstone. An M-class planet, a small earth like planet that had formally been a dilithum mine for 5 years before it was shut down to poor-health and safety regulations caused an fatal accident of a party of three. The colony buildings had remained but now, refurbish, rebuilt and technologically advanced; with the latest against vampires. Michael hadn’t helped but noticed how Starfleet had also co-opted Mudd’s toys for a basis of their weapons.

For a building meant to house vampires, new and old, Michael could speculate it would be a…safest building than this star ship. The report had detailed the recommended timeline of a new vampire and placements in the facility and training. Each vampire had been different between control of thirst, or physical attributes such as speed and strength, so things were adjusted and tailored and to why they needed a whole planet for this, not a station. Extra space.  

It was mostly led by a lead vampire (primarily Cornwell, given her position having sired most of the vampires there) and also run by non-humans which lessened the likely hood of an attack due to blood-scents not being nearly so potent or appetizing as a humans.

Michael couldn’t fault the logic behind that and she had to say…. She was impressed by the work put into it. And the fact people were being assessed, screened and trained prior to transformation showed that it wasn’t careless. It was order. Not like Paul’s transformation; that had been a rush job they had been cohered in.

There was benefit, but there was… almost a hint of apprehension that seemed to linger in how the federation was otherwise handing them. So far, everything was being done through them. Clean and clinical. No one had broached the topic of…independency. No species were fully dependant on the federation; they had their own governments to fall back onto and so far.

Not vampires. All _they_ had was Admiral Cornwell that acted as their governmental head. She was curious to why not… although, they had a small population of about 17, including herself and the turning humans. Were they just too busy to not think of that yet?

Michael didn’t know but it gave her plenty to talk about with. One thing was clear, her immediate issue.

Philippa Georgiou.

She was going to have to fight her, win and feed her up to win authority over the Terran’s primal instincts. Would she fight as a skilled assassin or a primal beast? Michael didn’t know, but she had to hope it was the latter over the former.

Beside her, Georgiou’s transformation was near its end. The ragged heartbeat was now the last to fully turn now it was becoming more redundant by the second now the last of her internal systems were otherwise gone.

Throughout, Michael had noticed that there was a mildly different effect compared to Paul’s and her own transformation. She and he had spent days screaming and struggling, yet now, Georgiou was unmoving. Was it the simple fact she was from another universe that altered the vampire transformation or another factor?

Michael didn’t know but it made her uneasy.

She rose from the bed after a moment and headed towards the replicator and started to replicate blood bottles.

Six large bottles were done within a few minutes. Keeping a port of it open, this allowed the scent of it to drift out into the room and saturate the air.

Then, Georgiou’s heart beat shifted, increasing now.

_“Is it time?”_

The voice was distant but she heard Cornwell’s voice echo from a few decks up with caution. No one was a fool… Michael knew that preparations had been made the last 27 hours for this moment. Georgiou was an unknown factor to _just_ have _her_ to wake up too. Outside, the steps were quiet but Michael recognised them as Landry and Cornwell, darting to secure the door in a second, Paul’s steps further down the corridor. She didn’t need to answer; the sound was clear indication enough to any vampire with experience.

Michael reached for the wall and turned down the suppressor, allowing enough for her to just about hear them. To lower the amount of audio stimulation the new vampire would be exposed to now.  Then, she moved back, much further than before. She had learned her lesson with Paul… now was much more dangerous.

Then steadily, Georgiou’s heart’s rhythm began to change, missing a beat here and there, and dropping in speed then began to stutter small beats as if fighting to continue… until with a last beat, felt quiet….

Then there was nothing.

Michael watched, her breath held and still. Any wrong sound or movement would be likely to trigger something… She heard nothing from the two on the other side of the door so they knew to keep still…

Then Georgiou was up on her feet in an instant.

Standing on the bed in a crouch, her face constricting into a look of primal fury, her fangs sharp and long; her irises a pitch black and a growl seemed to resonate from her chest. Georgiou looked half-in the rational mind set to not go for her straight off but there was clear warning bells being run as her black eyes sweeps across the room, sniffing in the tainted air before attention was divided between the bottles, then herself…

Michael though stayed still. Counting the critical moments…before thirst seemed to play the bigger part than threat that offered her some relief the Emperor wasn’t going to snap straight at her. This allowed her to see how the woman moved in her new form… sides she favoured. Speed was an immediate note as Georgiou darted for the bottles then was in the corner within a second. The black eyes remained fixed on her as her fangs sunk into the rubber.

Bottle after bottle was drained until they were gone but the emperor stayed in her corner for a longer moment. There didn’t look to be any initial changes of behaviour though Michael took her chance and stepped forwards and was immediate met with a louder resonating rumble.

“Emperor.”

Black eyes narrowed but there was a second before Michael saw her move before reacting herself, tilting her body away though she felt their shoulders impact with a thundering crack but she didn’t hesitate to grab Georgiou’s hand and kicked her back and twisted.

A series of angry hisses and growls echoed but the emperor twisted from her grip and back defensively. Michael ducked back with her own growl, going louder and she could feel her fangs sharpen out. Baring them at her.

Then Georgiou tried again.

As though fought, Michael soon got the sense there was less of the emperor’s rational side with how she fought; less graceful and more primal… but there was more elegance to it than how Paul fought; it made it harder to find the blind spot to pin her.

But Michael had more experience with her new form. Using the same trick as she had with Paul, she used her speed and momentum in that up the wall, enabling her to spring over and behind the emperor smoothly and jump onto her back. Her weight taken by the woman’s strength and balance but she slipped her legs around her tightly and crossed them tightly, her arm slipping around her neck but Michael hissed out in pain as she felt the woman’s teeth sink into her flesh.

Her hand gripped at the side of the Emperor’s head, then yanked—a low and dull sound of a rumbled cracks echoing before the head gave and parted from her shoulders but she kept a hold of Georgiou’s head. The teeth slacked in mid-bite, as did Georgiou’s form under her as they fell forwards with a heavy _thunk_.

It almost made her stomach twist on what she had done…. but her gut feeling told her that this was necessary. At least for Georgiou… the woman had been an Emperor. Dominating and un-submitting. She would not submit like Paul did, no matter how long she had piggy-backed her for…

Clearly the assessments made were right…if Georgiou didn’t put up another fight.

Her fingers gently prised the woman’s fangs from her flesh, letting her head drop to the floor as she pushed up her sleeves, exposing the new wounds in her arm

Two new, half-crescent scars lined her right forearm, lower down from the bite mark left from Paul. The scars were cracked into her skin but she could see the fluid building up and they stung like salt on a cut. It’d heal… but it’s scar. It’d be cleat to anyone to know what they were and to a vampire, who they were from. The scent of the venom did linger….

Under her, Georgiou’s form gave a shudder, a hand moving a fraction, her back arching too but she kept her pinned. Shaking off the pain. Michael grabbed the vampire’s head, steadily lined it back to its rightful place before pushing it back. Immediately, Georgiou reacted. Her body convulsing, a series of angry hisses and a snarl of pain, bucking back to throw her off but she kept her grip on her head, holding her down from there.

“Emperor.” Michael sighed, “You’ll need to feed again. It’ll help with the healing and new thirst. I’d recommend running a blood wash over the scars around your neck to help heal them up faster externally and escape any potential staring. But, if you fight or go for me again, I’ll rip you head off again. Understand?”

The emperor’s still continued to growl quietly but not out of hostility this time but more in annoyance. Carefully, Michael loosened her grip around her head; listening out in case Georgiou was playing her but she didn’t move. Steadily, she got off her fully and stood back.

Georgiou’s eyes wheeling to her with heavy depths of emotions in her black eyes. Anger being the most prominent one as she pushed herself up and dusted herself off, her hands though drifted to her throat, feeling over the fresh scars.

“You should have let me die.”

Michael sighed but she wasn’t too surprised… at least she was rational now. “I know you’re mad at me, it may have merit—“ she pointedly ignored the scoff of agreement “—but right now, that isn’t the main concern for you right now.”

“You kidnapped me to this world.” Georgiou pressed, her arms coming to fold over her chest, her posture stiffening right up.  Her irises remaining the same pitch black. “I had every right to stay on my ship… to die there as a human.”

“I’m sorry, Philippa.” This was genuine, allowing the emotion to seep into her voice, her gaze and posture.

Georgiou looked away, shaking her head before she darted over to her window to look out. Not saying anything. Michael though slowly moved towards her, a slow and human pace.

“I do understand that this is a lot to take in. But the federation is the best solution for us. I’m sure you’ve heard what Admiral Cornwell said earlier about our facility. Once we’ve washed through that, you can talk further on what you’re future is.”

Though, vampire and Terran, it was a very cautious and they couldn’t yet think too far ahead when they had a few other problems first. Such was War and Klingons. Then the vampire aftermath would need to be addressed. Michael made a mental note to discuss that with Admiral Cornwell.

Georgiou didn’t move, nor acknowledge her words.

Then suddenly, behind them, the doors opened. Immediately, they both turned to see Admiral Cornwell stride in, arms behind her back, red eyes watching the terran vampire with steady scrutiny. Georgiou stared back, her fangs sharpening again though her hands dropped from her chest, balled up and ready. There was a minor hint of a defensive ground from her but Michael stayed relaxed.

“Emperor Georgiou. I’ve been filled in much about you from this crew and the terran Empire as possible. Your word was Law. Here, we do things differently.”

Georgiou’s eyes remained fixed though nodded. “I can tell.” The dryness to her tone unmistakeable.

“The existence of our kind has also changed some of the federation laws and we’re still new in their eyes. As of the moment you woke, you’re classed as a new-born vampire. You’re attendance to the facility is mandatory as is Burnham’s, given she turned you and will give you the necessary time to adjust to your new form and this world.” Admiral Cornwell continued, going straight to informative with little emotion as she spoke. “Your presence is complicated—“

“Can’t you send me back?” a demand hung in the back tones of the emperor’s voice. “The solution is there.”

“No. For many reasons. We can’t.” Cornwell signed. “Even if we could, we do not have the time or recourses and the fact you’re a vampire now… it’s too much of a risk to both our worlds if we release vampires _into_ the Terran Empire. Commander Saru had already told us that Lorca’s intend was to do _just_ that.” Cornwell’s voice remained stern, “It only takes one bite or one us to get careless with our venom before things get out of control.”

“I have already informed the Admiral that your placement here is without motive and you’re entitled to political asylum due to the rebel uprising.”

Georgiou scoffed. “Like I need your protection now, Burnham.”

“The point still stands and it’s been granted. But for now, as I’m sure you’re already aware, we’ve got a cover ready for you. Break this cover to anyone unaware of your origins and you’ll spend a decade or more in our facility. We’re not risking the truth of your world to leave this ship. It will account to treason. I hope you understand that.” From her pocket, she pulled out a PADD and held this out to the Emperor. “Read it. We’ll get to Starbase One shortly.”

Her attention moved softly back to Michael. “See to her comfort then come to the bridge. We’ll need you there.”

“Yes, Admiral.” Though Michael felt a little relief at that. A break away from Georgiou… it’d allow them all to take a step back and breathe.

* * *

Katrina stared ahead to the view screen, a PADD in hand though it was a swelling relief to get closer and closer to their new destination. A relief to return and reorganise their assets now they had more to work with, the cloak breaker especially.

“Star base one within range, Admiral.” Saru informed from his station.

She nodded softly, her lip curling up. “That’s good to hear. Bryce, call ahead.”  It’s be a sight for sore eyes. Finally. Though she could guess it’d be much more of a relief for the crew after their experiences. Something _familiar_.

The human male nodded, twirling on his chair to the screen. “This Is the USS discovery to Starbase One, requesting permission to start docking procedures.”

There was a moment of quiet but with nothing coming back as sooner as expected, Katrina could feel the slight warning bells start to ring. She looked to Landry then to Burnham before rising to her feet.

“I’m sorry, sir I can’t seem to get anything back… the comms seemed to be… in flux or jammed.”

Her attention shifted as Saru’s ganglia emerged. Warning bells rung. Something was wrong. They had to prepare for it….

“Red alert, Detmer, drop us out of warp into impulse.”

Ahead, the screen changed from the warp bubble to the immediate sight of Starbase one. The station was flooded with at least half a dozen birds of prey and a flag ship, all firing on the station, 3 star ships were buzzing around, taking heavy fire.

“Battle stations, Detmer, follow the bird of prey tailing the _Magee_ class ship.”

Immediate action was suddenly among them, immediate setting course. Landry taking the tactical like it was second nature, firing on the ship. It only took a few shots before it was gone in a blaze.

“Three birds of prey locking weapons.”

“Shields?”

“At maximum.”

“Evasive manoeuvres, Alpha five four.”

The ship steer around, cutting a diagonal that shot two of the Klingon shots just past their hull before they made the full turn.

“Launch Photon torpedoes, have it detonate behind the ships as they pass. They have more shields to their forwards than their aft. If it won’t destroy them, it’ll take out their warp.” Katrina called out. The chance would be after that, they’d cloak….and be sitting ducks nonetheless; unaware they could still _see_ them.

The ship shook, taking fire but nothing of her concern. Watching as the torpedoes were deployed before they shot forwards for the distance… then they _blew_.

Two of the tailing ships were damaged and were flung away from the blast, one too close was immediately burnt up and blew itself; sending debris everywhere.

“The other two ships are breaking away from their assault on the second and third ship to us. The flag ship is… not responding to the fight.”

“Then assume it’s out of the game. One of us must be on board.” It seemed the logical conclusion. A flag ship would not just sit out of a fight unless it was dealing with an internal one. One vampire was proven enough and she knew there had been one here in her absence to handle anything to do with their facility and assessments of potential recruits.

“The status of our ships?”

“The… USS  _Ticonderoga_ and USS  _Sebrova_ are without warp and have crippling failures and are out the fight but the USS Bowman is assisting their defence now the attention is on us.”

“Logical.” They could handle themselves. “Pattern beta six three. Charge phasers and get ready to roll over.”

It was a new field tactic for space combat but she knew, as unfamiliar as it was to Lieutenant Detmer, she could pull it off. But there was also the matter of hand of any Klingons on the base… but there were enough of them…

“Burnham, Stamets and Landry, get to the transporters and prepare to go to the base. Permission to kill the Klingon invaders.”

“Admiral?”

“Once these are dealt with, we _have_ to take the base back. Assume it’s Klingon riddled.” She didn’t press for much further as they suddenly lurched around. She heard the vampires leave but didn’t break her concentration.

The ships retaining its gravity so it only looked like everything else outside looked to be flipping around. Phaser firing hitting the birds of prey and another torpedo was launched at her order. Enough to scatter the two Klingon ships and send one into a blaze until the second fell into its cloak. Lasting only a further few shots before it too was destroyed.

“Deploy the vampires onto the base.” She called through to transport. “Owosekun, how many Klingons are on the base?”

“Err… about 189, sir.”

“Federation life signs?”

“About 59 thousand and dropping.”

“Send forwards shuttles and worker bees to establish emergency force fields on main decks.” It was necessary to preserve what was left, it’d allow access to other aspects of the base and other escape plans.

“Yes, Admiral.”

“Detmer, bring us in closer.”

The ship immediately lurched forwards at tops speeds.

“Vampires are on base, Admiral.” 

Katrina nodded. Good… but now was the waiting game….

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehe I'm quite pleased with this. I had to do a rewrite and this totally seems like a good part to expand. It needed a little more action. Georgiou wasn't included because... she'd just kill everyone in a frenzy lol and Cornwell isn't prepared to share her existence jut yet :)
> 
> Now, drop some love and some comments. I'd love to hear more because all you readers are amazing to have stuck with this so far. 
> 
> I feel like there's a lot of potential with this AU and I'd love for you all to take a peek at the miniature smutty aus of ships if you haven't already. 
> 
> We have:  
>  V!Michael x Pike  
>  V!Georgiou x Nhan
> 
> On the plan is:  
> V!Michael x Pike (later down the line)  
> V! Michael x V!Georgiou
> 
> On hold:  
> V!Michael x Tilly
> 
> I am still open for more ships if you wanna send more in, in the comments


	28. Star Base One aftermath

Michael did not like this idea but orders were still orders and there was logic to Cornwell’s demand. An admiral’s demand. _Time_ was of the essence and people were dying. _They_ were care more capable to take down the Klingons than a human squad given _their_ advantage. The Klingons clearly didn’t do enough research. Michael though knew herself; the others would kill the Klingons, but she knew she could disable them soon enough.

She was tired of killing.

Gold light faded from Michael’s vision, feeling both Stamets and Landry beside her though the scene around her she could describe as a total mess. Emergency force fields were holding, bodies of all federation species were everywhere, from Ensigns to commanders to even a captain or so.

All around, there were sounds of fighting… metal slashing through flesh, phaser fire… heartbeats of life were disappearing every couple of seconds from either side of the fight. It set her senses onto an immediate height alert, her fangs sharpening out.

“Burnham. Take the first 5 decks ahead, Stamets, the five bellow. I’ll take the five above. Once the Klingons in your area are disabled or dead, secure the area and reroute emergency power to force fields and life support.” Landry called though.

Michael nodded and darted forwards.

Unlike discovery, the hallways were immediately larger and she could spread her senses out further. She heard the other two take other route but it didn’t take her more than a few seconds to come across the first squad of six Klingons….

Then the second…

And it was almost all too easy. Bone crunched under her hands, flesh tore but she took the extra moments to destroy all their weapons before moving on if any had stayed alive. But she felt no enjoyment for each one but there was a primal desire within her. A hunting instinct that clawed at her mind to turn off and take cover. To label everything that had a heart beast as prey. To kill and to feed.

Michael recalled the taste of Klingon blood easily and the idea was temping but she didn’t allow her control to waver. Not now. Not after the Terrans. She’d not allow her instincts to define her.

The admiral’s call for all three of them was not expected but logical. Speed was the key. To not only take down the Klingons but to preserve those still left alive. Hundreds were dying and their abilities would easily enable them to take out the Klingon threat in a short amount of time. The benefit of being top hunters. Undead… lethal.

Michael weaved down the corridor, slowing now though she could hear the others, the sounds of Klingons getting lesser and she couldn’t sense too many in her current area though she could pick up the scent of blood; human, Vulcan and a varying selection of others. She could hear voices and sounds of those barricading and huddled together, even the sounds of make shift medical rooms from the calls of people for hyposprays and other equipment.

_“Life support is failing…”_

The familiar voice caught her attention, dim but clearly Vulcan.

_“Klingons are on route. Those doors aren’t going to last much longer.” The tone clipped of another person, then the cocked sound of a phaser. “We should leave and get to another deck while we can”_

_“No. Our position is secured, Shukar. We’ve got access to the computer but if we lose this room then we lose this deck and everyone else if we can get our communications going then—.”_

“ _You_!”

Her attention drew back to her immediate location, her head turning sharply. Ruby eyes locking onto a group of 4 Klingons. Michael growled softly, baring sharpened fangs at the group as she moved towards them. Weapons were raised though she watched at the realisation to what she was reach them.

“I don’t want to kill you but I can if you force me. Drop your weapons and surrender.” Michael demanded.

None of the back down, one fired though she lazily watched the green beam before she darted around and gripped the front of the barrel and squeezed. Metal caved under her grip then she grabbed his arm and twisted

_Crack!_

_Crack!_

_Crack!_

_Crack!_

Each of the group fell, sporting broken limbs though she knocked a few out, keep them quiet. The last though she kicked him hard enough in the leg to hear it crack, wincing at the sound of the scream…

_“What was that?” one of the humans asked._

_“Back up?” The Andorian suggested._

Michael reached down and yanked away the Klingon’s weapons. Using a fallen pipe that she manipulated like rope to secure his hands as well as the others then knocked on the door.

_“Are they knocking?”_

_“Why would a Klingon knock, Admiral Yetson?”_ The tone voice of a clear Vulcan remarked.

Michael sighed though she looked to the key pad on the side. Tapping on it. Opening up the comms.

“This is specialist Burnham. Do not open the door but please identify.” She called through.

_“Burnham? I thought Discovery was lost.”_

_“No, it resurfaced earlier.” The Andorian spoke, “I was on it.”_

Feet moved and she heard some more tapping.

_“Comms on our side are down.” The Vulcan answered._

“No, but I can still hear you. Your systems are damaged so I assume anything against vampires are too.” Michael replied. “There are three other vampires on this base, taking it back on Cornwell’s orders. Please identify.”

_“Admiral Patar, Terral, Yetson, Shukar, Gorch, Wilson, Paris and Wright.” One voice answered, “What’s the situation?”_

“Discovery’s holding position, all the ships we’ve disabled or destroyed, about fifty nine thousand federation crew still alive here and less than two hundred Klingons here which are dropping considerably. Three vampires on the base and one, from my understanding is on the flag ship. I’m clearing out the Klingons in this section but can you start rerouting power back to life support, defences and emergency force fields?” Michael asked

On the other side she heard movement of quick walking that stopped, then the tapping of a touch pad. _“Not all from here. Most of our technology was damaged.”_

“Okay.”

 _“I can try and manually rewrite some of the circuits to this terminal, that window won’t hold for long.”_ A gruff voice spoke, the Tellerite—Gorch if she recognised the name to the species.

“Alright, sirs, I have to go but I’ll try and reconnect you once I can get to a monitor and you can devise ways of escape or repair once you can talk to the rest of the crew. Burnham out.”

* * *

“You know, this wasn’t what I had in mind for today? Aside from…jumping us all back to our universe….”

Paul’s voice drifting to her ears. Michael’s looked up from the computer.

It had been an hour since she had lost spoken to the Admirals and Discovery, trying to patch them both through but the only sliver living that out of all the death involves, almost all the Klingons were dead, injured or were forced to surrender. A good portion was now in what was left of Brig, Landry had moved the ones she had broken into other newly secured areas of the base as a second brig. Most of them were sedated and wearing being treated; offering them a good portion of POWs to negotiate with.

She was still trying to get her way through the bases system. Life support was back in operational, as were the emergency power to force fields but there were a lot of crew still trapped in other sectors of the ship.

“What’s the number count?”

“Well, we’ve got about…fifty seven and a half thousand crew trapped in various sectors of the base. The infrastructure barely stable but…. I’ve think I’ve almost got through to Discovery. We can have them start beaming the base crew about.”

Paul nodded though he was wiping his hands on his uniform, looking very displeased on it, the amount of blood that stained his flesh and hands. But he looked much better than Landry. “I’ll help.” He moved to the station beside her, “The Admirals are on their way up.”

Michael nodded though she paused as she watched him. Michael knew this wasn’t what he expected nor wanted to do…. He was not the type of vampire to enjoy this amount of death. “Are you alright, Paul?”

The vampire nodded. “I’ll be fine.” He smiled tightly but didn’t elaborate at her nod of inclination. Perhaps later.

They relapsed into silence, working in quiet though she felt more relieved as Paul manged to bridge the line out to communications

“Burnham to Discovery.” He called out, “Do you copy?”

 _“….ts…”_ the line was immediately filled with white noise but it was a connection. Michael bent down to the electronics, fiddling with then _—“….base one?.... comm…low…”_

“You’re cutting in and out, clearing up the connection.” Paul spoke. “Please repeat that.”

 _“Lieutenant Stamets?”_ The voice of Admiral Cornwell broke though _. “What’s the status of Star base one?”_

“There are many crew still trapped in sealed off areas of the base. We’ll need to transport them to safety and get more ships here.”

“The other ships are in the vicinity can take more of the crew that are in immediate dangers. Send out a distress call for other federation ships to fall back to.”

Michael nodded.

“Admiral Cornwell. It’s much relief that you made it.” The voice of Admiral Terral calling through. Both their heads turned to see the group of eight admirals make it into their current position.

None looked too worst for wear though roughed up. Shukar’s left antennae was severed and roughly bandaged with scrap blue fabric. The others at worse has a few cuts and bruises.

 _“Terral, I wasn’t aware you were moved to this station.”_ Cornwell remarked, _“What’s the situation down there? We’ve managed ourselves around another Klingon flag ship but it looks like our success here has awarded away any lingering cloaked Klingon vessels. Discovery can assist but we’re due to leave when we can.”_

“So soon?” Gorch questioned. “We need all the assistance you’ve got.”

 _“Yes, to why we’ll be standing by until more ships can arrive. We’ve got a new-born on ship and we can’t risk her so close to bloodshed. You know the protocols, Gorch.”_ Her tone said it all but Michael felt like she was missing out on the full context… the depth her kind now had with the federation. So many new protocols with vampires she hadn’t been aware of…or gotten to reading yet.

“Landry is currently overseeing the brig. We’ve kept a portion Klingons alive for the federation to keep in holding for questioning or to use as part of negations with the Klingons.” Paul spoke. “Once many of the crew are at least transported to safer areas, we can seal off those sections and you can work with what you’ve got?” His tone almost turned to a suggestion as he glanced to the admirals. “I would however will need to return to Discovery soon.”

Terral moved forwards towards them though the others soon broke apart to different areas. “What have you done so far, Lieutenant?” He asked.

Michael moved her attention as Paul quickly ran over what was done, allowing the Admirals to now reinsert themselves, taking the controls back, so to speak.

“Our transporters are working on a few decks. We can beam them out. Where the largest and safest area? I assume you’ve swept the place?” Paris asked, her eyes on the monitor in front, her brow pulled in.

“There are the mess halls on Deck 56 and 41. There’s already a med team set up there for wounded but it’s…huge. It also connected to a few other labs that can also be used.”

“We’ve established contact with our other ships, Admiral Terral. Once the USS  _Ticonderoga_ and USS  _Sebrova_ have done with the repairs to their warp core, they can send more teams down or evacuate to Earth or closest federation planet” Cornwell spoke.

 

* * *

This sort of talk continued for a while but Michael found it a mercy to be eventually transported back to Discovery, mostly for the need of a shower—she knew she looked just as bad as she did after returning from the Terran ship but the space felt good. It had been a while since she had been surrounded by so many people of high authority and somewhere huge—at least in this universe. There was also very little she could do further but she was glad to have helped but the fact that most of it was death…. It didn’t make her feel too good.

Once fresh and clean, Michael found herself outside of Ash’s room… hovering a little before she chimed. She didn’t need to wait long, the doors sprang open to reveal low methodical sounds of a familiar beat, low hums… it was Vulcan medication music. Inside, Ash was sitting at the end of his bed, looking to have at least been trying to relax, a book in hand though he looked otherwise healthy—something she felt relieved about since living him in sickbay.

“Michael.” He smiled, closing the book. “I…sort of heard what happened. Glad to see you’re okay.”

Her ruby eyes looked away, stepping in before sighing. “How is it _Starfleet_ to send three vampires to massacre a bunch of Klingons?” She asked, trying to reel back the note of frustration in her tone, sitting down at his sofa.

Ash slipped off the bed, his head tiling as he turned off the music and sat down in front of her. “I’m sure given the circumstances it’s perfectly called for.”

Michael huffed out distastefully. “I feel like we’re being used for emergency cannon fodder. I don’t like killing but here I am, _another_ body pile later…. _again_.”

Ash said nothing though he moved from in font to beside her. “Did you kill all of them you came across?”

“No.”

“I’d say that was something, Michael.” Ash smiled, “You’re not a predetermined monster. What you are, like everyone else is complicated.”

Michael gave him a half-dry look. “At least Star base One is secure. I heard from the bridge that other Starfleet vessels are falling back to help with the clean-up. The news of Discovery’s return as…halted the Klingon’s advances. More experienced vampires than the new-born’s that Cornwell made.”

Still, it was the silver lining. Rescue were still on going, but they were still here. Cornwell had said they’d leave for the Bloodstone facility because of Georgiou’s new-born status.

“At least we didn’t lose the star base altogether. It’d be looking a lot worse for Starfleet if it had. An open door for Klingons to get to earth.” Ash pointed out, his hand slipping to her wrist. “You did what you had to.”

Michael said nothing. She knew he had better interests at heart in saying that. To do a bad thing for a good reason. Everything that she had done on this ship was like that. Turning Paul for the drive, going against Saru to get him in the drive, becoming a Terran, killing those Terrans, bringing down Lorca, taking Georgiou and now _this_. It was a list. Not one she was overly proud of.

“How are _you_ , Ash?” Michael questioned, drawing the topic away from herself.

The man looked away then sighed, staying quiet for a long moment to mull. Her eyes flickered to his face, watching the muscles in his face tighten or loosen though there wasn’t too much distress hanging around him like before.

“Better.” He decided with, “but… I’ve been debating on…what I should do. Once the war is over.”

“Do? Aren’t you going to retake your position here?”

Ash shook his head. “No. I don’t think… I can properly settle back here. I need to spend some time to…rediscover myself. Vog’s memories are part of me and so I know there’s mistrust on my identity.” He looked away. “I’ve considered a placement at Bloodstone’s security station. Admiral Cornwell’s suggestion.”

“I thought humans weren’t allowed onto the facility for their safety?”

Ash shrugged. “They have a base in orbit. It monitors the station and any visiting vessels to ensure no one sneaks down there.”

Michael nodded softly, “So you’ve been briefed?”

Reaching forwards, Ash plucked up the PADD, showing the display on the screen. “I’ve been doing some reading. It’s quite interesting to see how much was developed for your species.”

Her eyes flickered over the text before he put it down again “I’m not shocked. Vampires are dangerous if the body piles are any indication.” Now most of Starfleet would know what they were capable of on a _rush_ job. Actually, they probably _already_ knew; the adjustments to what the federation knew was… hard to gather in their time differences since leaving and coming back. Complicated.

“Well, I’m sure once we get to the facility, you could get dropped off there. Cornwell’s making me stay down there to oversee Georgiou and—“

“ _Georgiou_?” his head turned sharply to her, brown eyes widening in alarm. “Where did you find her?”

Michael rolled her eyes, feeling a sliver of amusement but she supposed he hadn’t been kept in the loop.

“The _Terran_ Georgiou. I got…impulsive. She’s turned and now waiting around. I’ll need to check on her soon.” She was probably grouchy still. Especially given she would have ‘missed’ out on a homicidal trip that would have been right up her alley.  

Ash exhaled heavily, the surprise still coursing through his veins before he rose to his feet. His mouth opened, “Look, I think—“

Ding

Her eyes flickered to the door that interrupted him. His gaze flickering from her to the door before his jaw snapped shut.  “Open.”

The doors sprang open and Michael smiled as Tilly same in, a tray in hand and an unsurprised expression when she noticed her seated. “I bring you Lunch. I figured you didn’t want to be out much so I thought to bring it to you. Maybe hang out?”

Ash forced a smile, reaching for the tray, “Thank you, Tilly.” He placed the tray down. “I appreciate the thought, but I believe Specialist Burnham could do with your company tonight. It’s been…eventual. More so than mine.”

Michael gave him a look though she could take the hint. Darting to Tilly’s side though allowed the woman to hook an arm over hers, though she too took the hint and began to tug her along.

“Talk to you later, Ash!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehe I know the whole Star base one incident wasn't overly long but in all honesty, with 5 OP vampires, it's not intended to last too long. But they're still stationed there for a reason. 
> 
>  
> 
> Also, I need to ask, does anyone want me to still save Prime!Georgiou?  
> I've thought of a way to do it but I really don't wanna throw it in there and ruin this fic for you all (( I WILL NEED TO KNOW THIS BEFORE THE NEXT CHAP IS POSTED :) ))
> 
> Maybe as a side story I could do it with her saving Prime!Georgiou if that works?  
> JUST LET ME KNOW my faithful readers.
> 
> As usual, send some love and your comments, they are important, no matter how small or long

**Author's Note:**

> Please drop a comment, I'd love to hear your thoughts; they're very helpful for my story-muse and motivation.


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